Embers
by Footloose Tenshi
Summary: Sparks fly. Embers burn. English twins are shipped across the Pond and promptly enrolled in Sweet Amoris, what will become of these foreign interlopers? Ren, the writer, the daydreamer and the malcontent. Em, the "nice guy", the genius and the peacemaker. Will their personalities find them friends or enemies? Read on to find out... Rated for language.
1. Sundered

**AN: I will keep my notes short. This is my first My Candy Love fanfiction, but I've done a fair amount of research, so don't panic. I hope you enjoy it.**

**Disclaimer: All work belongs to its owners and affiliated companies. I own nothing.**

oOo

**Embers**

**Act the First - Sundered**

oOo

_Tunbridge Wells, England_

We stared at our parents in disbelief. They were sitting there, so innocently, smiling as though ruining our lives was really in our best interests and not out of their own selfish desire to get rid of us. It took me a few moments to find the right words. When they came out they weren't nearly strong enough to express my disgust.

"Have you completely lost your minds?" They didn't even flinch at my acerbic tone.

Mum smiled ever-so-innocently. "Don't be silly! This is a great opportunity for you two. Didn't you say you've always wanted to travel, Ren?" Oh, no. She wasn't putting this on me!

"Yeah, on a _holiday_. I didn't mean I wanted to _emigrate_! And certainly not to _America_!"

Em finally found his voice. "The only person we'll know over there will be Aunt Chrissy and she's insane."

"I can't believe how ungrateful you two are being!" Dad snapped, folding his arms in his "stern father" mode. It honestly isn't frightening, just pathetic. "We've lined up a great trip for you, paid for your flights and an apartment out there, lined up a new school for both of you, and all you can do is set there with faces like a pair of slapped arses. I can't believe I raised such ingrates." He stalked out of the room to further illustrate his point.

Mum sighed at his dramatics and turned back to us. "Please, you two, just give it a try. I know you've got friends here, but you can keep in contact with them. And who knows, you might make better friends out there." She looked at Em with a strained smile. "Sweetheart, think of all the pretty girls that'll go crazy for your accent!" And then, to my horror, she looked back at me. "Ren, there might be some cute boys out there for you too!" Was she really trying to blind us to the fact we were being packed off halfway around the world by toying with our hormones?

I didn't take the bait. "At what point did you think it was alright to plan all of this and not tell either of us? Did you think _this _would be a good birthday present?" I mocked her high-pitched voice. "Oh, happy birthday darlings! We're going to get rid of you for a full two years so that we can go swanning off to excavate some great big bloody skeleton! Isn't it all _so _wonderful!?"

Em snickered at my performance. Mum, on the other hand, wasn't so pleased with my dramatics. She stood up abruptly, her eyes suspiciously wet. When she spoke, her voice was tremulous.

"Well. I had no idea I had such a selfish daughter. Make fun of me if you will, but you're going to live over there and that is final. You will go to that school, you will live in that apartment and you _will _learn to be grateful for all the sacrifices your father and I have made for you over the years." With that, she joined Dad and stormed out of the living room.

Em and I shared a glance. _We're screwed_, it said. With a great sigh, my brother dragged himself from the couch and perched on the arm of my chair. He rubbed his knuckles across my hair in that irritating way of his. "I don't think we have any choice in this, Ren." He grinned suddenly. "Hey, look on the bright side, at least we'll be away from the dinosaur freaks. We'll never have to discuss the bone structure of a pterodactyl at the dinner table ever again."

I snorted at his assertion. Perhaps he had the right idea, finding whatever tiny silver lining there was to this pretty crappy situation. "No, but Chrissy is obsessed with drama. She'll be lusting over Othello over dinner."

"Good thing we'll be living on our own then, isn't it?" Em's blue eyes danced with mischief.

"Yes, a _very_ good thing." I acknowledged.

oOo

I folded the last pair of jeans into the suitcase. They gave us one day to pack. One.

Dinner last night had been excruciating. Mum sat on one end of the table, sniffling to herself and making everyone in the vicinity (namely myself and Em) feel very awkward, while Dad just stuffed his dinner into his mouth and glared at the pair of us. What a wonderful, beautiful send-off for us to remember for the next two years. Em soon cracked under the weight of the silence and attempted a few lame jokes about the move, but Dad's glares soon quelled him back into silence. Poor guy, he can't stand awkward social situations. He's too sensitive to other people's emotions. I'm not as kind as he is. I sat there in my silent protest, ignoring the food that was put in front of me, ignoring my mother's sniffles and pleas to eat something, please _eat_ something and my father's staring. Eventually the situation became so tiresome I got up and left the table, leaving the food untouched. Em followed soon after and we spent the evening in my room, listening to CDs and shutting out the noise of our parents arguing downstairs. I don't know why they were fighting, it's not like someone is pulling the rug out from under their feet and banishing them halfway across the world. They're going to Namibia to dig up a dinosaur. We're going to some random part of America to play perma-tourist-

"Ren?" My brother's voice interrupted my thoughts. He leant against the doorframe, all lankiness and floppy black hair. My brother's cute, in an objective way. I've seen the way the girls at our school, sorry our -old- school looked at him and heard their delighted whispers whenever he came over to my lunch table to steal my dessert. Fucking sweet-muncher-

"Anyone home?" I blinked. If I kept spacing out like that, I was going to end up walking into walls again.

"What is it?" I may have been giving my parents the silent treatment, but Em was in the exact same boat as me. Slamming down the lid of my suitcase I struggled with the zip. I'm a girl, I have a fair few clothes and who knew how long before I'd be allowed to come home again? Hands took over mine and pulled the zipper closed with ease. I gave Em a grateful smile and repeated my question. "So, what?"

"Mum and Dad are downstairs. They told me to tell you that it's time to go." He rolled his eyes at the unnecessarily convoluted message. He glanced around my room and frowned. Is this all that you're taking?"

I looked around at my room. My books filled a floor to ceiling bookcase, double stacked and bursting, CDs were organized neatly in a stack next to them, a violin stand and case sat in the corner and my notebooks sat in a pile on my desk. All of this stuff would've been impossible for me to leave a few days ago, but now it was just as easy to part with as it was for our parents to ditch us. "I've got my clothes and my laptop. What else am I going to need?" The laptop, my baby, was safely tucked into a case and then double bagged in satchel. I was intending to take it on the plane with me and guard it with my life. Not even Em was allowed to touch it.

"At least take your violin. It's not like you can just buy another one out there." I was about to protest. I had a weak argument about it being heavy to carry and that I wasn't really interested in music anymore, but Em would see straight through it like a window. "Besides, it'll make this new place seem like home."

"What will?"

"Hearing you murdering _Four Seasons_."

"…_Fiiine._" I was being childish, I knew, but my parent's behavior made me want to dig my heels in and act as stubborn and sullen as a five year old in a toy shop. "Smartarse." I swatted at him with the bow. He ducked and hared it out of my room. Quitting while he was ahead.

My attitude faded as soon as he was out of the room. I packed away the violin with care, secretly quite glad he'd badgered me into taking it. Leaving it behind would have been cutting my nose off to spite my face. It would have done nothing to spite my parents; I would have been the one who felt the loss of the instrument when I was in America. Maybe they'd even have a decent teacher there. I'm only a mediocre player.

The honk of the car horn interrupted my reverie. I cursed and lugged the violin case and suitcase down the stairs. Em intercepted me halfway down and snatched the handles of both from my fingers. It gave me the moment I needed to do a small turn in the hall and bid a silent goodbye to the home I'd known for ten years. If my parents had their way I wouldn't even have had that second, as Dad came storming into the hall.

"Well, are you coming or not?" He huffed.

"If I say "not" will you let my stay here?"

"Of course not." His face crumpled in confusion. For a Professor he could be a real idiot. And he didn't understand sarcasm, another tally against him in my book.

"Then why ask?" I retorted, slipping past him into the grey light of an English morning. Apparently that was another thing I could look forward to. Lots of strong sunlight. I'm sure for many this would have been a plus, but I like the gentle weather of Britain, it means I never get sunburn. When I brought this up, I was told yet again that I would _get used to it._ How many other things am I supposed to get used to? Parental abandonment? My opinions being ignored? Decisions being made about me without my knowledge, input or consent? Fuck that!

I jammed my headphones in as soon as the car started moving. Mum was quiet on the drive, Dad, again, stony-faced and huffy. You'd imagine they'd be a little more upset that their only two children, their precious twins, were being tossed across the Pond. Then again, I guess not.

We got to Heathrow. As soon as we had piled out of the car, Dad was thrusting the tickets into Em's hands, along with an envelope full of cash and a credit card that was only for Emergencies with a capital "E". Mum was throwing her arms around each of us and trying to stifle her crying in the sleeve of her coat. She wasn't very successful. The moment before she pulled away, my heart softened and my arms met around her small form. But then, she was gone, smiling oh-so-bravely and telling us to keep up with our studies, be good for our aunt and be sure to keep in contact. They would miss us terribly. _Yeah right, they'll be so busy with the dig they barely even notice our absence._

Dad gave us directions to the right terminal and muttered a reserved goodbye. He clasped Em's shoulder and smiled down at his handsome son. When he got to me, I wondered if he wanted to touch my shoulder or slap me. Apparently he couldn't decide either. He just told me to "behave myself" and turned away without another word. It should have stretched on forever, those goodbyes, but they were over in less than five minutes. Then Mum was waving out of the car as Dad drove them away, heading towards Stanstead airport to catch their flight to Namibia.

When the last growls of the engine had faded, I turned to my twin. He smiled wanly and nodded to the doors. _Shall we?_

I scowled in the direction of our fleeing parents, and sighed. _If we must. _

America, here we come. Though we'd really much rather not have to.

"What's the name of this new school anyway? Wasn't it something stupid?" I asked, sourly.

"Sweet Amoris." Em replied absently.

oOo

**AN: Starting off slowly, but surely. Familiar characters will appear in the next chapter. Reviews are welcome but not expected. That said, I'd love to know what you think. I'm also looking for a beta-reader. I have a fairly strong grasp of spelling and grammar, but even I make mistakes. Anyone interested, then just shoot me a PM and we'll chat.**

**-FooTen**


	2. Airborne

**AN: Sorry, guys, kind of a long chapter. I was trying to get everything smoothed out and explain some loose threads and it just kept getting longer. I really writing the twins' dialogue. Also, Ren will be the only first-person POV in this story. Everything else will be written in the third person. XD**

**Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't sue.**

oOo

**Embers**

**Act the Second - Airborne**

oOo

_Ren_

I remained silent throughout most of the check-in process, speaking only when asked a direct question. Too overwhelmed by the suddenness of everything. Yesterday, I'd been an average English girl, looking forward to starting Sixth Form in a couple of weeks, looking forward to my birthday and the prospect of a new freedom. Then, the course of my life had taken a hairpin turning and there was nothing I could do about it. Except, perhaps, be glad that Em was along for the ride. He was going to be the only familiar thing in a very unfamiliar place.

To my credit, I managed not to grind my teeth in irritation when the woman processing me raised her eyebrows at the name printed on my passport. Let's just say I go by "Ren" for a very good reason. I also managed not to cry out when the security people took my laptop out of its cocoon so that they could scan it. Defilers! As soon as it was placed back into my waiting hands, I buried it back into its many wrappings, cooing to it that I'd never let anyone touch it again.

After we had been thoroughly searched and every possession had been rifled through, they pronounced us non-terrorists and let us through to the duty-free area. A whole swathe of shops surrounded us as busy travellers ducked in and out, stocking up on cheap booze and cigarettes, smelly perfume and chocolates. I could practically _feel_ Em's attention extending in the direction of the gadget shop. Surely that packet of money Dad slipped to him was burning in his pocket, but I'd be damned before I let him spend all of our money on a twinkly, beeping piece of junk that would fall apart as soon as he got it out of the shop. I took his arm firmly and dragged him off in the direction of a well-known coffee chain* for a bite to eat. I'd had the feeling all morning, that he knew more than I did. It was time to get some information out of him.

"So, remind me again. What pathetic excuse did they give you?" I asked through a mouthful of chocolate muffin. Em had stuffed the dessert into my hands as soon as he saw the inquisitive light in my eyes, hoping to distract me with sugar. It wouldn't work. No matter how moist and rich and delicious the muffin was, I needed answers.

He sighed and put down his latte. "Well, from what they told me after you'd flounced off upstairs-"

"Hey." I protested. I do not _flounce_.

"You want to hear this or not?" He asked, clearly annoyed.

"Right. Sorry." I muttered.

"Apparently, this wasn't supposed to happen for another month or two. You remember that research grant they spent weeks applying for last year?"

"Yeah, the Emerson fund or something." I shrugged.

"Emery Fund. Well, they didn't expect to get it but they made all the plans just in case. They were going to tell us about the plans to move us yesterday, so we'd have time to get used to the idea in case they actually got it."

"So what changed?" I asked, growing impatient with all the back history he seemed to think was so necessary.

"Dad got a call yesterday morning from the manager of the Fund. The university will give them the grant provided they start the project immediately. The other applicants are still tied up in other projects and it just so happened that our parents were free." He shrugged and brought his styrofoam cup to his lips. After a long sip, he opened his blue eyes and shot me a knowing glance. "I know this is sudden and that you're angry but you need to stop being so harsh towards them. They've done a lot for us."

"Em!" I demanded. "Have you gone loopy too? They're sending us to America on one day's notice! We'll be all alone and they get to swan off and do what they want."

"You make it sound like they're leaving us with nothing." He frowned disapprovingly at me. "They've given us two-year visas, an apartment, individual bank accounts, access to our savings and a car out there. We're hardly going to be living on the streets." He sounded so sanctimonious that I had the rare urge to smack him.

"Since when did you start to sing their praises?"

"I'm not. I just think you need to think a little more clearly. And we won't be alone out there. Chrissy lives in the same town, two streets away. We can go to her if we need anything. She _is_ a mature and responsible adult."

I fixed my brother with a flat stare. "Chrissy. A mature and responsible adult. Chrissy Moran. The woman who thinks she is a reincarnated fairy queen."

Em choked on a laugh. "Well, okay. I'm sure she can help out with emergencies though."

I shrugged. "Let's hope really hard that we don't have any. I don't want to break my leg and have her waving a wand over it."

He tried and failed to hide his grin. "I'm sure we can manage. You done?" He pointed to my half-eaten muffin.

Somewhat chastened and no longer hungry, I dropped the dessert in the bin, ignoring Em's cry of protest at such a callous waste of sugar. There was still an hour to kill before we were allowed to board the plane. Keeping a firm grip on Em's arm as we passed the gadget store, I half-dragged him into the bookstore, determined to buy something to read for the journey. I'd left all of my books at home after all. It was probably time to start building a new collection. What better way to start than putting a sizeable dent in the bribe money Dad had given us? As we moved between the wooden shelves, I could feel my haven calling in subtle whispers. As soon as we entered the fantasy section it felt as though the turbulence inside my mind was hushed, cowed by the weight of shiny covers densely printed words. I reached out and brushed my fingers along the spines, looking for that one that would draw me in.

I didn't notice Em slipping away. So, naturally, when I was snagged by a book and whirled around to show him, I was surprised to find myself facing someone a good four inches shorter than my brother, with a bowl cut of mousy brown hair and the kind of thick round glasses that went out of fashion in the fifties. Worse yet, he was snacking on a packet of chocolate cookies. Who eats in a bookstore? Blasphemers, that's who.

"Uh." Was my witty opener.

"Hi! You like fantasy?" I was surprised to hear the twang of an American accent, sounding discordant in the quiet atmosphere. Another thing to get used to, naturally.

"Yeah. H-have you seen my brother?" I asked, disconcerted by the way the magnified green eyes were staring at me from behind the glasses.

"He went over there." He pointed. "Want me to show you?"

"No, really, that's okay. Um, thanks…"

"Ken!" He positively beamed at the chance to give this piece of information about himself. "What's yours?"

"Ren." I muttered absently, already wondering how to make a polite getaway from cookie-boy.

"Hey, it rhymes!" Forget beaming, he was incandescent.

"Um, great. Sorry, I really have to be goi-"

"Do you want a chocolate cookie?" He blurted, turning pink with the strength of his outburst.

"No, thanks. You keep them. Nice meeting you!" I garbled as I hotfooted it away from the strange boy. As soon as I found Em I steered him towards the counter so I could pay for the book I'd almost forgotten I was carrying. Glancing over my shoulder to make sure I wasn't being followed, and yes, feeling a tiny bit like a secret agent, I pulled him out of the bookshop after me. It was only when we were four shops down that I stopped and leant against the wall, breathing harshly. Em stared at me for a couple of minutes before he broke.

"What the hell?"

"There was a crazy guy in there with big glasses and a green jumper whose name rhymes with mine!"

He stared. "Was there crack in that muffin?"

I laughed breathlessly. "No, no. He kept asking me questions and offering me biscuits. I know better than to take sweets from strangers."

"Right. Well, if you're done…"

"So done."

"Good." He practically skipped to the gadget store.

oOo

The tannoy overhead burbled into life, bringing with it the unwelcome news that our flight was ready and passengers were required to board. I'd been so caught up in our shopping spree that I'd almost forgotten where we were, and why. I caught Em's arm and held tight. We glanced at each other, sharing the same thought. _This is it. _As slowly as we dared, we made our way to our gate, moving with all the enthusiasm of a condemned criminal heading to chair. The woman attending it smiled professionally at us, practically a copy of the one who had orchestrated our check in. She asked crisply for our boarding passes, giving them a cursory check and waving us through. Defeated, I ducked into the covered tunnel that led straight to the plane. We clung to one another for comfort, as we had done as children. I'd almost forgotten, in all my self-righteous anger, than Em was being uprooted too. He was leaving behind his friends and his home just as I was. I gave his his arm an apologetic squeeze and received a puzzled look for my trouble. Embarrassed, I shrugged and followed him onto the plane.

Another woman, with the same plastic smile, checked our passes yet again and directed us to our seats. Still feeling guilty, I insisted that Em take the window-seat. He plugged himself into his MP3 player, ready to sleep the entire journey away. Just as soon as I had made myself comfortable in the middle seat, cracking open my new fantasy novel, a vaguely familiar voice jarred me from my thoughts.

"Wow! Hi, again!"

"Ken?" I asked weakly, wanting to sink down in my seat until I was no longer visible.

"Yeah! How lucky is it that we're on the same flight!" He produced his boarding pass with a flourish. "Look, we're even in the same row of seats! Isn't that cool?"

The grin that cracked my face in half was brittle and merely a desperate attempt at keeping the panic out of my eyes. I had to be squashed in between my snickering brother -I gave him a sharp elbow in the ribs for his impertinence- and the Cookie Monster? True to form, as soon as Ken sat down, he pulled out the inevitable packet of cookies and began to rip into it. I winced with every crackle and snap of cookies as they disappeared between his teeth. My vision was soon invaded by a blue and black piece of plastic as Ken offered up a seemingly unopened packet of cookies. Oreos, this time.

"Would you like some?" I sighed. Ken was obviously just as bad as Em insisting that everyone be filling themselves with sugar, all day, everyday. Still, Oreos. I smiled and nodded, opening the packet and taking a cookie out. Hopefully, they weren't laced with rohypnol and I would still have both my kidneys by the end of the flight.

oOo

_Chrissy_

_Sweet Amoris Bus Station, Connecticut_

She tapped her fingers against the steering wheel.

_How much longer? Marie said one-thirty. _Her cramped Fiat was fast becoming fogged up with all of her impatient sighs. She didn't begrudge waiting for her niece and nephew, but how long was this bus of theirs going to take? Her phone had beeped about an hour ago, a text message from Emmanuel, saying their flight had landed safely at New Haven airport and that they were on their way. Well, that was all very well and good, but why weren't they here yet.

A small part of her mind was more concerned with the fact that if she had to wait much longer, by the time she'd settled the pair into their apartment, Leigh's shop would be closed for the day. Her beautiful, custom outfit would have to wait for another day. What poor planning on her sister's part, to send the children over the very day she was due to pick it up. And with only a day's notice!

Chrissy tugged her hand through her long mane of red hair, wincing as her ring caught in it. Well, so much for a pristine appearance. She squinted at herself in the rear-view mirror and pulled a face. The sight of her own features had her wondering what those two looked like now. They'd be turning seventeen in a matter of days. Last time she'd seen them, they were ten years old, practically identical. Would Ren look like her mother? Emmanuel like his father? Marie sent photographs, sure, but they were hardly like the real thing.

The idle meandering of her thoughts was -thankfully- cut off by the sight of the doors to the bus station opening. Out strode a tall pair of teenagers, followed, incongruously, by a short boy in a too-large jumper with a cookie dangling out of his mouth. She watched, puzzled, as the shorter boy walked away, heading in the direction of a large khaki jeep. The other two made a beeline for her car. Grinning, Chrissy launched herself out of the car, holding her arms open for both of them.

Rather than throwing themselves into heartwarming hugs, the duo stopped and stared at her. _Something on my face?_

"Are you auditioning for a play, Aunt Chrissy?" Emmanuel asked, a strange smile twisting his lips.

She glanced down at her elaborate outfit and frowned. "No, why on earth would you think so?"

"No reason." The boy's voice was strained. Perhaps he had indigestion?

Well, anyway, let's get a good look at you two! You're both so tall!" She grabbed their arms and moved them out from under the awning of the bus station, looking them up and down whilst they shifted uncomfortably.

"Well, you certainly got the good genes in your family." Emmanuel, already a good six foot, hadn't filled out yet and possessed an awkwardness that suggested he wasn't used to his body yet. Luckily, it was topped by a finely crafted face and mop of straight black hair. Chrissy smiled to herself. A heartbreaker in the making. Judging him as very much up to her standards, she turned towards his sister. "You've certainly grown up, Se-"

"Chrissy, please."

"You've still not grown out of hating it? Fine, fine, Ren it shall be." She made an impatient motion for the girl to move forward. "Look at all this hair, how much do you have now?" Ren's dark hair was bundled into an elaborate bun with still more coming out in a ponytail that dangled to her waist. Heavy bangs** obscured some of her face. She blinked owlishly when they were pushed out of the way by the curious expat. "What a pretty face! Why are you hiding it? Honestly-"

"Chrissy, if we've passed your inspection, is there any chance we can go to our apartment? It's been a long flight."

"Oh! Of course, I nearly forgot." She got back into the car, starting up the ignition. The twins, unbeknownst to her, shared an exasperated look and climbed in after her.

oOo

_Ren_

_Rookwood Apartment Complex, Sweet Amoris_

The turning of the door handle woke me. The rustling comfort of the duvet and pillows was one that I didn't want to leave, but hunger and Em's insistent calling begged to differ. I slid slowly to the edge of the bed and stumbled out of the bedclothes, wobbling on my aching feet. My unbound hair fell all around me, tangling around my arms as I tried to push it out of the way. Cursing, I glared at Em through the mess covering my face.

"What?"

"Come on, Kayako***. Get dressed. We're going to that burger place we drove past. There's no food in the house and I'm not cooking." He wandered off to get himself ready.

I dug around in my suitcase, eventually finding a navy tea dress and a pair of jeans. I stuffed my feet into stripy socks and thick black boots. My prized purple wool trenchcoat would keep me warm in the evening chill. Mum had been wrong. There wasn't an incredible amount of warmth here. If anything, it was colder than home. I tried to drag a brush through my hair but it was having none of it. Tossing the brush aside in disgust, I braided it back into a long but manageable plait. My fingers lingered over my make-up bag but Em was already back in the doorway, whining for me to get a move on. He himself was dressed unusually well in a black button down shirt and black jeans. I think he'd even run a comb through his hair.

"Who are you trying to impress?" I asked, eyebrows raised.

"No-one." He muttered, tugging awkwardly at his shirt.

oOo

The burger bar was a twenty minute walk from our complex, through some of the more populated streets of Sweet Amoris. We stuck close together, wary on our first trip out in a foreign culture. Sure, we'd seen a lot of American television and movies, but living the life for real was something else entirely. The large clothing store caught my eye and I vowed to drop by there tomorrow, remembering how Chrissy had rhapsodised about it in the car. Several other stores were crowded close by, a dollar store and a jewellery store, though I doubted I could afford to visit the latter.

Cool, late summer air swept over us, doing its part to wash away the jet-lag. Food would help too. Especially if it was of the cheap and unhealthy variety, my favourite. Inside the diner, a group of kids, roughly around our age, occupied the booths at the back, obviously out to enjoy their Saturday night. I looked them over out of the corner of my eye, wondering if any of them were students of Sweet Amoris High. _Of course they are. This town is like a petri dish._

They seemed friendly enough from a distance but there was no way I was going to march over and introduce myself. Em slumped into a booth near the door, leaving the ordering to me as always. He becomes shy in the strangest situations, especially when it comes to asking things of people. I'm always the one who has to ask for directions or place orders, while he acts like the social butterfly in new crowds, winning friends and admirers. Personally, I prefer not to be around other people at all, especially if I don't know them. I leave Em to it more often than not. We manage well enough between us.

"What can I get you, darling?" The middle-aged man behind the counter asked. The "darling" threw me for a curve, but I don't think he was being creepy.

"Hi. Could we have two bacon cheeseburgers, two fries, a Coke and a chocolate milkshake please?" I asked uncertainly. My first time speaking to anyone but Chrissy since we'd…would he even understand what I was saying? How thick was my accent?

His face split into a smile. "Well! Would you listen to that! You sound just like one of them kids out of _Harry Potter. _You on holiday with your young man there?" He nodded to where Em was sitting, chin on fist, watching the exchange.

I felt my cheeks flush. "That's my brother. We just moved here."

His smile grew, pleased. "There's another Brit in town. Goes by the name of Chrissy Moran. She can show you the ropes."

It was my turn to smile. "That's my aunt."

"Oh! You living with her?"

"No, we're in the Rookwood building on the other side of town. Our parents sent us here to finish school, since they're going to be away for a while."

"School? You're going to Sweet Amoris High, then?" He glanced in the direction of the kids at the back.

"As of Monday, apparently. Sorry, how much is it?" I could see it coming. He'd think he was being kind. He'd call over some of that crowd and tell them who we were and what we were doing here. He'd think he was helping us make friends. Instead, it'd be awkward and the stilted conversation would make me want the ground to swallow me up. Then rumours about the stupid English weirdos would be all over the school before we set even set foot in the hallway.

"$7.95, darling." I pulled a ten dollar bill out of my coat pocket and handed it over. He rang it up and pressed some coins into my hand, promising to bring it over in five minutes. I thanked him and tucked the strange money into my pocket, joining Em in the booth.

"Had a nice chat, did you?" He asked archly.

"Shut up." I muttered.

oOo

*I don't provide free advertising for these people. They can afford to pay people for it.

**It's called a fringe in the UK, but "bangs" suits my purpose a lot more.

***The lovely, murderous young woman from the Grudge.

**AN: Oh god. So. Much. Dialogue. I'm only slightly happy with this but I've been working on it for three days. It isn't going to get any better. It'll pick up pace when the delicious boys are introduced, promise. As ever, reviews are not expected but I still love to hear from you. Many thanks to wolvsrule for their kind review, I'm glad of the support. **

**-FooTen**


	3. Education

**AN: Late post, I'm afraid. And a fair amount of dialogue. But, we start to meet the first of the boys, so that's something, right? Please enjoy.**

oOo

**Embers**

**Act the Third - Education**

oOo

_Ren_

Monday came all too soon.

I slept late again in Sunday, unwilling to leave the blankets when my body insisted it was still the middle of the night as the sunlight peeked in between the curtains I'd hung up the night before. Even as I dragged my confused body out into the cool air of my room I was already deciding against going shopping. On any other day I might have gone happily, but the thought of Aunt Chrissy dragging me through the aisles, probably dressed in some sort of fairy costume again and pulling random clothes over my head was enough to make me want to get right back into bed. There was still plenty of unpacking left to do, thanks to Chrissy's shopaholic tendencies. A dozen boxes filled the living room, stuffed with things she'd gathered over the last few weeks. I'd had a peek the night before. There was a television, DVDs, even a popcorn maker, for goodness' sake. We were in the middle of unpacking the TV (me) and rolling on the bubblewrap (Em) when we heard her Fiat Panda pull into the parking lot. Em glanced out of the window and started sniggering.

"What is it?" I asked, hefting the television onto the coffee table.

"She's dressed as Tinkerbell." His voice had risen several octaves, trying to keep the giggles in.

"Get it out of your system before she gets up the stairs." Em proceeded to bury his face in a sofa cushion and howl, drumming his fists on the innocent furnishing until his mirth was suitable expressed. He came up red-faced and sweaty.

"Feel better?" I asked, deadpan.

"Much."

When she came up the stairs she was laden down with a fridge's worth of groceries. We dined in stele that night on pizza and popcorn, watching strange American cable shows until late.

Now, however, Em and I were sitting in the back of her Panda, staring at the looming shadow of Sweet Amoris High in the distance. I'd told her to park at least one street away so that'd we'd have a chance of sneaking through the car park without attracting too much attention. Chrissy is a lovely woman. She's just not very good at keeping a low profile, which was my general survival plan for getting through the first day. Keep our heads down and stay out of trouble. That was the plan we'd agreed upon. I glanced sidelong at Em. I didn't trust him not to start charming people and somehow stumbling into the limelight, as he had inexorably done at every other school we'd ever attended. When we were five and starting school he won the teachers over with a giant smile while I stood awkwardly beside him, clinging to his hand. It was the same even now. He was the light and I was the shadow, hidden by his brilliance. That sounds terrible, like I resent him. I don't. It's the way I want it.

For that very reason I didn't intend to speak today, not if I could help it. The last thing I needed at a new school, that I didn't want to attend, mind you, was for the kids to make fun of my accent. If _one_ person asked me to say "Guv'nor"…

"Don't look so worried." Chrissy soothed, turning around in her seat to smile at me. Easy for her to say. She wore fairy costumes and danced down the aisles at the supermarket. Like she cared what anyone else thought. I nodded to placate her, smoothing the hem of my dress over my knees. I'd dressed with care that morning, not wanting to look like I was trying to be a clone of the other girls but not wanting to be too "out there" either. I'd laid my clothes over every available surface, deliberating until Em had pounded on the door and yelled that if I didn't get dressed soon he was going without me. In the end I settled for a pale grey sweater-dress, thick black leggings, black slouch boots and my purple trench coat. I applied enough make-up to conceal my eye-bags and freckles and left it at that. Hair was another matter. I managed to get it all up into a tight braided bun, keeping the heavy weight of it off of my face. Em had taken similar care, wearing navy and black with his dark-grey pea-coat. Hopefully we wouldn't both stick out like sore thumbs.

However, faced with the prospect of actually going into the school, I felt as though I might as well be wearing a sack. It didn't matter what I wore. I'd still be the freak new girl with the weird accent. I threaded my fingers nervously through the handles of my messenger bag and gripped hard. Quarter to eight. Time to go in. Em slid out of the car first, giving his door a firm slam. I followed shortly after, trying to avoid the gaze of any passing students.

"Come on, then." Em laughed at me as I tried to hang back.

I followed him in silence, hitching my bag further onto my shoulder. We fell into step an walked side by side, along the street and round the corner until we finally passed beneath the gate. It was a wrought iron affair, announcing "Sweet Amoris High" in curly letters. The car park was filling up quickly, with dozens of spaces already occupied. Just how many of the student body drove to school? Well, we'd join them soon enough. We were due to take driving tests in a matter weeks. Chrissy had, infuriatingly, refused to let us into her garage where our car was being kept. She said she wanted it to be a "surprise" for after we finished our test. I hate surprises.

I heard a whisper coming from my left and glanced around. A brightly dressed girl with fiery red hair was whispering to a demure-looking one with mousy locks and sweet face. No matter their appearances, they were gossiping about us, so I wrote them off as potential allies.

_"Hey, are…the ones Nathaniel mentioned…"_

_"Maybe…"_

I caught more stares and whispers coming our way as we walked towards the doors. Em pushed them open and we ducked quickly inside. The loud, brash chatter of students washed over us as we slipped quickly into the tide, hoping to be moved along the corridors in the general direction of the Principal's office. A few girls gave Em appraising looks, blushing when he smiled politely at them and then dissolving into giggles. I smirked to myself, wondering if they'd think he was so handsome if they knew he had a tendency to roll on bubble-wrap, giggling like a little girl. I ducked my head, avoiding eye-contact with the sea of strangers. This made me walk straight into Em when he stopped all of a sudden. I peeled my face from his coat and peeped around him. A plump, elderly woman in a pink suit, her hair in a tight bun, stood in front of us, smiling benevolently despite her severe hairstyle. This, I assumed, was the Principal.

"Are you our new student?"

"Yes, ma'am. Emmanuel Coulter." He was turning the charm up to eleven.

"Excellent. And where is your sister?"

Em reached behind him and yanked me into view. "This is my sister, Ren."

"Ah, you do not go by your full first name?"

"No, ma'am." Determination to avoid hearing it spoken aloud motivated me to speak.

"I suppose it is a rather…unusual name. You shall be entered into the system as Ren, then."

"Thanks." I said, with genuine feeling.

"Now, you must enrol. Nathaniel is our student body president, so he will handle your documentation and assign someone to show you around. Please return your forms to me when they are complete." She turned to walk away but paused and glanced back. "Oh, and welcome to Sweet Amoris. I do hope you feel at home here." With a shuffle of her court shoes, she was gone.

I glanced at Em. "How much of that do reckon was bullshit?"

He grinned at me. "60%, at least."

"Where do we find this Nathaniel?" I asked him. This was probably the same Nathaniel that had been gossiping about us to those two girls in the parking lot. He'd made a poor impression on me already and I hadn't even met him. Things weren't shaping up well and we'd barely set foot in the door.

"How am I supposed to know? Why don't you ask someone?" He looked at me hopefully. I shook my head obstinately and mimed sealing my lips shut. He rolled his eyes and sighed. "Fine, I'll do it. Giving everyone the silent treatment is pretty childish, you know."

I was about to stamp on his foot but he was already moving away. He chose his target carefully: a shy looking girl, with doe-like eyes and shoulder-length violet hair that was coming towards us along the hall. He stepped delicately into her path and smiled softly at her. She stopped abruptly, looking like a deer caught in headlights, looking honestly a little freaked out at the strange boy standing in her way. Then Em started speaking, his voice a gentle murmur, so low that even I couldn't hear it. I could however, see the way her eyes widened further, though for a different reason, as she stared up at all six foot of my brother and the way her cheeks reddened as he continued to talk to her. When she replied, it must have been barely more than a whisper but Em thanked her so extravagantly that she blushed all the harder. When he moved out of the way, she scurried off down the hall. That didn't stop her from turning back once or twice to get another look at him.

"Flirt." I accused.

"Hey, it got us the information, didn't it." He glanced down the hall after the girl. "Besides, she was _really_ cute." Without another word he turned a corner and knocked the first door on the left. He opened the door a crack, stuck his head inside and called, "Hello? I'm looking for Nathaniel?"

"Oh, you must be the new student. Come in." A warm voice called from within. Something about it reminded me of honey - golden and sweet. Either that or I was feeling light-headed.

I slipped into the room behind Em and stood quietly beside the door after I'd closed it. A young guy was bent over a desk, rifling through a pile of papers. When he straightened up I caught a glimpse of his face and held my breath for a second. He was, without a doubt, gorgeous. Lightly tanned skin, golden eyes and mop of short blonde hair. He reminded me of the men I'd seen in paintings of ancient Greece. This must be owner of the honeyed voice. He glanced between us and nodded.

"You must be the Coulter twins. All the way from England, right?" He smiled and shook Em's hand. When he reached for mine I avoided eye-contact, oddly embarrassed. He let his hand drop and cleared his throat. "Right. Well, sorry to make your first day annoying but we need to get your forms sorted. Have you already met the Principal?" Em confirmed this. "Well, here are the forms you need." He held out two sheets of paper. When I reached for mine, our fingers brushed and a static spark jumped between us. The paper fluttered to the floor. Flustered, I squatted to grab it and backed up a few steps, holding it in front of me like a shield.

"Uh, anyway, you'll need to submit those by the end of the week with an ID photograph and the $25 fee. Best to get it done as soon as possible. Great to meet you both. It's been a whole since we've had any new students." He frowned suddenly. "If anyone gives you any hassle, let me know."

Em blinked. "Anyone in particular?"

Nathaniel paused, looking like he wanted to say something in particular. Then he sighed. "No, no-one specifically."

"Oh. Well, we will. Do you know if Ren and I are in the same class, by any chance?" He glanced down at his hands, as though expecting a timetable to have materialised in the last few seconds. Moron.

"You're in the same homeroom where you go to register every morning but other classes you may or may not be together." He shrugged. "I'm sure you'll see plenty of each other." He passed us our timetables and smiled as a gentle dismissal. No doubt he had loads of other work to deal with, not just welcoming newbies like us.

Em paused in the middle of the hall, consulting his timetable. His bright eyes scanned the text, then jumped from the paper to me. "We're all the way along the hall. Says here that we have Mr. Faraize as our homeroom tutor. He rolled his head on his neck and took a deep breath, visibly collecting himself. "Alright then, let's do this."

oOo

The room was packed full of noisy students, chatting amiably about their summer break and yelling across the room at each other. We halted outside the door, plucking up the nerve to walk in and announce our presence to the world or at least, the thirty odd students in the classroom. We were rescued from procrastination by the arrival of Mr. Faraize, a tall man who bore a faint resemblance to John Lennon.

"You must be my new students, hmm? Well, in you go!" He opened the door and ushered us inside. So much for remaining inconspicuous.

"Quiet! Quiet, you brats." He hollered over the noise until it died down. I could feel thirty odd stares burning in my direction. I inched towards the door so that Em stood between me and their line of sight. He's the social butterfly, let him have the attention. I kept my gaze locked on Mr. Faraize to avoid catching anyone's eye. "Right, you lot. I'm sure you've all had a great holiday and are delighted to be back in this fine institution for your Junior year." Collective groans met this statement but he just grinned at their distress. "And we're lucky to welcome two exotic foreigners to our class. May I introduce Em and Ren Coulter." He gestured for us both to say something. Um…

"Thanks…" Em managed, grinning uncertainly.

"You speak very good English. Welcome to A-mer-i-ca!" A girl ventured, speaking loudly and very slowly. She didn't look like the brightest crayon in the box. She caused a few sniggers and raised eyebrows amongst the rest of the class.

Em laughed. "Thanks. Your English is very good too."

As soon as the girl heard the lilt of his accent she turned beet red, having just made a fool of herself in front of the cute new boy. Questions barrelled forth as every student seemed to find their voice all at once.

"You're British?"

"Cool!"

"Are you from London?"

"Cool accent!"

I fought the urge to laugh. One sentence and he'd won half of them over already. A fast worker, my brother.

"Are you twins?" Someone else asked.

"Yeah, we are. I'm Emmanuel, but you can call me Em. And this is Ren." Eyes scooted over from my brother to me. I shrank back as the red-headed girl from the parking lot suddenly materialised in front of me.

"Do you have the same accent?" She was looking at me, asking me. I opened my mouth to answer-

"Of course." Em laughed.

"Oh, say something!" A short, black-haired girl cooed at me, staring at me like I was some exotic creature in a zoo.

Disturbed, I asked, "What do you want me to say?"

Her eyes danced. "You sound like that girl out of Harry Potter! Want to sit next to me? Can you say something else?"

"Calm down, Angela. She's not a parrot." Red-head again. She gave me a toothy grin. "I'm Iris. Nice to meet you. There are a couple of spare seats up the back if you want." I immediately revised my opinion of her. She was my saviour.

"Thanks." Em cut in, answering for me again. He was quite used to having to do that. He darted to the offered seat, eager to get out of staring range. (Even he can only take so much attention.) I followed at a more sedate pace, ignoring the eyes that followed me. Or trying to, at least. In reality, my palms were clammy and my heartbeat was erratic.I didn't need to let the general public know about that though. Teenagers are like wolves, they can smell weakness. I slid into a chair, dropping my bag onto the desk. Iris dropped into the chair next to me and shot me a smile. I smiled back, grateful to have found a human being amongst the rabble.

"I'll show you around later if you like. I even have a few friends I could introduce you to." She offered.

It didn't really sound appealing, being dragged all over the school and then being forced to interact with a whole bunch of new people at once, but there was no way for me to turn her down politely.

"Sounds great." I lied.

I'd probably be dead by lunchtime.

oOo

**AN: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. The next one is already half written. Expect it sometime next week. As ever, reviews aren't necessary. I just want you to enjoy the story. Also, still looking for a Beta. PM me if interested.**


	4. Altercations

**A/N: Much later than I had planned to release it! Please accept my apology, as I have no real excuses to give. I hope you enjoy it. Oh, I feel I ought to mention this. I created a blog where you can get a more…visual look at the story. Links to outfits, songs and profiles etc.:**

**embersmcl .blogspot .co .uk (remove the spaces)**

oOo

**Embers**

**Act the Fourth - Altercations**

oOo

_Castiel_

The smoke curled gently away from the cigarette, only to be whisked away by the brisk wind as it came around the rooftop shelter. Castiel leant back against the brick wall, his grey eyes following the delicate tendrils as he inhaled more nicotine. He blew it all out in a great puff of smoke, trying for a ring. He'd never quite managed it.

First day back. He snorted into the cold air. No doubt Nathaniel was already getting his panties in a twist about paperwork and schedules. Speaking of. He fished in his pockets for the crumpled piece of paper that had his life for the next nine months mapped out in neat little boxes. He looked at it again and scowled. The student body president had probably pulled strings so that he had the most aggravating arrangement of classes possible. Seriously, math first thing on a Monday morning and last thing on a Friday afternoon? The guy was just angling to piss him off. No doubt he'd also get shit from him over skipping homeroom as well. Who had they put him with this year? He glanced at the paper again. Mr. McFarlane. Well, that was a joke. Fat, balding, old and unwilling to admit it, Mr. McFarlane tried to flirt with all the girls in his class and lashed out verbally at any young men that got under his skin. He was going through a midlife crisis and probably a pedophile as well. Castiel screwed the paper into a ball and shoved it back into the pocket. A glance at his cell showed him that homeroom had passed. And the first two periods as well. Shit. How long had he been up here? He hadn't even intended to skip his morning classes, just the useless twenty minutes they spent taking roll. He was becoming more delinquent just through being absent minded. This brought a smirk to his lips. _Lysander must be rubbing off on me._

Castiel lurched to his feet, pulling open the door to the stairwell. He made sure to lock it securely behind him. It wouldn't do to have anyone skipping classes up there, now would it? He snickered softly and jogged down several flights of stairs. The bell for morning recess rang as soon as his feet hit the bottom. _Perfect timing._ Lysander was due to meet him at their bench. It was theirs because no-one was stupid enough to sit there and face Castiel's scowl. The main hall was momentarily empty of the idiots that made up the rest of the student body, as well as the damn president and his irritating sister. He made it to the courtyard without a fight. He lit up again as he slouched on the bench, waiting for Lysander to show his face. He was halfway down the stick before a silver head bobbed into view.

"Skipping class _and_ smoking? Off to a fine start, Cas." A dulcet monotone voice penetrated the white noise of the courtyard. Castiel smirked up at his friend.

"Lost track of time. I was thinking of that song we were working on. I think I've worked out the problem with the time sig." He took a drag. "I'll show you after school."

Lysander nodded, settling himself on the bench next to the redhead. "Alright."

"So, bunch of idiot freshmen to add to the overall stupidity this year?" Castiel asked idly.

"Most likely. A couple of new people are in our year too."

"So?" Castiel scoffed.

"Twins. English, apparently."

"Oh? Do they dress like you?" The redhead smirked at his friend.

Lysander smiled faintly. "I haven't seen them myself. Iris told me about them in class. She seems quite taken with them." He fiddled with the elaborate buttons on his shirt cuff. "A boy and girl. I didn't really get anything else out of her." He shrugged.

Castiel snorted. "Whatever, just as long as they stay out of my way."

oOo

_Ren_

Classes came and went and with each one we were subjected to the same barrage of stares and questions. I let Em do all the talking. By the time the lunch bell rang I had probably opened my mouth four times and it suited me just fine. Thankfully, I was apparently too new and "exotic", as Mr. Faraize put it, to be the target of the schools bullies. They hadn't sussed me out just yet. Oh, I was sure it would happen just as soon as they saw that I was little different than them, subject to the same embarrassment and fear. The accent-mocking would probably start by the end of next week. For the first time I could _hear_ myself, and how plummy my voice sounded in comparison to their more even tones. No wonder they could hear me from a mile off.

Predictably, Em had a small crowd of admirers gathered around him by midday. A large proportion of them were female, but I noticed that the violet-haired girl was conspicuously absent. That was a shame. She was precisely Em's type. He likes the shy ones that blush when you talk to them. He says they're often more interesting than the upfront ones when you crack through that exterior. He'd seek her out eventually. Is it creepy that I know my brother's dating habits so well? Maybe, but he is the only male my age that I've said more than two sentences to. Apart from Ken-

Better not to dwell on that.

I sighed. The constant chatter was making my head throb. I rubbed at my temples but it did nothing. Much as I wanted to stick by Em's side like I'd promised, the chatter of all his new friends was sending shooting pains through my skull. I was still jet-lagged too. It seemed every little piece of me was still resisting this situation, despite the futility. My body was telling me I ought to be curled up in bed right now.

I waved at Em to catch his attention. His dark head turned towards me over the crowd. He eyeballed me like a startled meerkat and I had to hide a small smirk. I pointed to my temples and then to the doors. "I've got a headache" I mouthed. He nodded and smiled, giving me a brief wave. Well, that was that. He didn't seem too put out. So why did I?

With relief, I broke away from the wall of noise and excited females and made for the doors. I reached up for the pins and hairties that held my hair in its fat bun. As soon as I pulled them out, my hair unraveled and the pulling sensation around my hairline disappeared. I rubbed at my scalp as some of the tension eased. I noted a couple of kids eyeballing me as they walked past but I shrugged it off. So what if it's a bit long? My hair, that is. Okay, maybe more than a _bit_ long but there were people here with _purple_ hair, so mine shouldn't attract too much attention, right? Wrong.

"Hey, Rapunzel!" called a blonde boy, leaning against his locker.

I shoved through the outer doors and ignored him. God, that was going to get old, really fast. The air outside was cool. A slight breeze stirred the hem of my clothes. Groups of students milled about, mostly too interested in their cliques to pay any attention to me, though I did catch a few stares. When was the last time this school got a new student? I pushed away from the doors, ready to dart between the bundles of people, when I heard my name called. I scouted for the source of the call and spotted a flash of ginger hair. Iris. She trotted over in those strange fur-lined shorts of hers, a bright smile on her face.

"Hey! I have some people that want to meet you. Where's your brother?" She glanced behind me, as though he might be squatting behind my legs.

"Breaking hearts." I retorted.

She laughed. "Well, are you feeling up to it? You're out here all alone…"

"I'm afraid I've got a headache." I apologized.

"I'm not surprised with everyone jumping on you all morning," said Iris, "but these are cool people. If you don't want to talk, they won't make you. And they won't pry either. I promise." She crossed her heart.

"Well, if you insist." I capitulated, relieved that she understood without me having to explain myself.

"I do insist." She said smugly, looping her arm through mine to lead me bodily across the courtyard. A small group was gathered around one of the tables: the violet-haired girl that Em had his eye on (so that's where she'd gotten to), a girl with soft brunette hair and a strangely familiar looking boy with a bowl-cut and an oversized green sweater.

"Ken?" I asked, incredulous.

"Ren!" He was glowing again. I wondered whether he might be radioactive, since he lit up so easily. "I wondered when I'd get to see you! Isn't this great?"

I stood there, dumbfounded. He mentioned that his Dad lived in Sweet Amoris but hadn't breathed a word about coming to school here! I wasn't sure whether to be amused, annoyed or-

"Surprised?" He grinned at me. "When I found out that you and your brother were starting here, I asked my dad if I could too. He took a lot of convincing but I managed it!" He seemed so happy that I felt incapable of letting my annoyance show.

I hate surprises. I always have done. But, I was willing to make an exception in this case. Perhaps it was a little bit weird and stalkerish, especially as we'd known him only for the duration of a plane ride, but he was a kind boy, even if Em did insist he had a crush on me. My brother was going to have a field day with this.

"Congratulations?" I offered.

He seemed pleased enough with my reaction and I was quickly introduced to Violette, the purple-haired girl naturally (or perhaps unnaturally), and Melody. Iris was true to her word. I barely had to say anything. They parted like waves and simply let me in. I didn't have to prove myself witty or funny or cool enough for them. They just took me as I was and got on with their conversation. I sat quietly with my squashed sandwich on the edge of their little group and watched. It was worth breaking away from Em for a while, for this. We'd made an unspoken promise to stick together on the first day, but he was too effervescent, too charming, and people flocked to his banner without a second thought. Then everyone expected me to be just the same, just as self-assured and funny. I'm not, not even close. I'm pale and gawky and awkward. This tiny group suited me down to the ground.

Lunch finished before I even noticed the time passing. I followed Iris to her elective, music. My phone buzzed in my pocket just before I went to open the classroom door. I leant against the wall and pulled it out. A text from Em lit up my screen. **C U in English. Hope U feel better. E. **I smiled and went to tuck the device away, when a voice cut through my thoughts like a knife.

"Hey. Are you that new girl?" The voice was haughty and grating. I glanced up, expecting the worst. And she confirmed it. Bouffant blonde hair, expensive clothes and too much make-up. Ah! Here was the Regina George of Sweet Amoris! She even had two sidekicks that were pretty, just not quite as pretty as her, of course.

"Ye-"

She waved her hand to stop me talking. "Well, anyway, it doesn't matter. I can see just from looking at you that you're nothing special. Looks like there won't be any competition for that cute new British guy that started here. He's far out of your league anyway."

I stared at her incredulously. Was she talking about _Em_? First of all, the thought of dating my brother was vile. And second, did she think that he would go for the likes of _her_? I almost wanted to see her try. Oh, but wait, she wasn't finished.

"Why don't you do something with your hair? Who are you supposed to be? The Grudge?" Her friends tittered obediently. "Oh, and for the record, little Grudge, stay away from my brother, Nathaniel. He can do a _lot_ better than you." She flicked her hair back over her shoulder and stalked past me, her little friends strutting after her.

I should have kept my mouth shut, but I've had enough of being told what to do. "_My_ brother can do much better than an opinionated little tart like you." At the sound of my accent, she turned around, surprise or something like it across that caked face of hers. "Yes, that "cute new British guy" you mentioned is my twin. Do you really think he'd go for the likes of you when he hears about the way you've just spoken to me?" I stepped forward. She stepped back. This felt _good. _"If I hear so much as a _whisper_ about you going near him…" I trailed off, letting the threat hang in the air.

She remained fish-mouthed for several moments, but then her eyes flashed. "You stuck up little bitch! How _dare_ you-!"

"How dare _I_?" No way was I going to back down now. "Did I ask for your opinions? Did I ask for your input on my relationships? No, I didn't! I don't know what makes you think you can pass judgment on someone you haven't even met but I do know that I'm bored of hearing your banshee voice. If you can't handle someone else's opinions, don't go throwing yours around in the first place." I spat, stalking into the classroom and slamming the door in her face.

As soon as I stepped inside, I collapsed back against the wall in horror. What the hell had I just done? Keep your head down and get through it, I said. Don't draw attention to myself, I said. Yeah, well I did that well, didn't I? Having screaming matches with the resident bitch in the hallway wasn't the best way to keep a low profile. Well, okay, I hadn't really screamed, but I certainly raised my voice. I rubbed at my forehead where the headache had returned with a vengeance. That blonde cow was going to make my life hell, wasn't she? I should have kept quiet, but the thought of her and her stinking perfume anywhere near my brother made me feel ill.

I glanced up at the sound of a muffled giggle. I was greeted by the sight of Irish holding her hands over her mouth, practically on her tiptoes with glee. And then there was the disapproving figure of the music teacher. I held my breath and waited for her to blow up at me.

"Getting into fights on your first day, young lady?"

"Well, I-" I started.

"Never mind." She smiled. I stared at her. "I'm Mrs. Fagan. I care little for what goes on outside my classroom. What happens in it, however, is very much my domain." She clapped her hands together briskly. "Now, can you play, or have you ever played any instruments?" She peered at me, waiting eagerly for my answer.

"I play the violin." I said hesitantly.

"Excellent!" She barked, startling me. "What grade are you at?"

"Seven." I jumped in before she could start speaking again. "I haven't had any lessons for a few months now." Mum cancelled them when I missed two in a row, despite my promise never to miss another one again.

"Marvelous. There's a talented young man who works in the Cambridge Music Store downtown. He provides violin and piano lessons, so you certainly ought to pay him a visit! Tell Tobias I sent you."

"Tobias?" I blurted.

"Yes, yes! Now-" She was off on another tirade. I blinked at her until Iris sidled up to me and tugged me in the direction of the instrument cupboard at the back of the room. Mrs. Fagan carried on as though she didn't notice me slipping away. Saved by the ginger. Again.

oOo

_Em_

Em couldn't believe his luck. The History teacher didn't believe in allowing students to choose their own desks, because God forbid they might want to actually sit near their friends rather than a complete stranger. He didn't mind in the slightest though, because the snarky old man had sent him to sit next to the shy violet-haired girl that he had encountered in the hallway this morning. She'd turned pink as soon as he'd stepped into the room, a shade that complimented her pretty pastel hair. The pink deepened to red as he slid into the seat next to her.

"Hi. Thanks again for helping me out this morning." He whispered, wary of the teacher's gimlet eye.

"What's your name?" He asked, when she didn't answer.

"Violette." She whispered back.

He grinned. "That's perfect. I'm Emmanuel, but just call me Em."

"Em?" Violette ventured.

"Yeah. You were a huge help."

"Was that your sister with you this morning?"

"Yeah, Ren. I haven't seen her since lunch, actually." He frowned briefly. He'd heard nothing from her since then, not even a reply to his text message.

"She came and sat with my friends." Violette reassured him, smiling softly.

Em blinked in surprise. So _that's_ where she had gone off to. He'd worried that she might have been hiding in the girl's toilets or something. That girl had a talent for disappearing when she didn't want to be found. And she wasn't adjusting to the new situation at all. Sure, it had only been a few days, but she was showing definite signs of resistance to the idea of staying. Just the night before he had caught her looking up the price of flights back to England on her laptop.

oOo

"_What are you doing?" He'd asked, dismayed._

"_Research. There must be some way out of this." She said flatly, clicking through options, not even looking at him._

"_Who would we stay with? Mum and Dad are in Africa!"_

"_I could always stay with Nan." She muttered._

"_In her one-bedroom flat?" _

"_Well, I can get my own place!" She snapped the laptop shut and turned in her chair to glare at him._

"_How? Think this through? We're all set here for the next two years. Why would you throw it all away?"_

"_This is a bribe! They want to make themselves feel better about dumping us over here by throwing money at us! I'd rather-" She stopped herself._

"_You'd rather what?"_

"_Nothing."_

"_Ren- what-?" _

"_Leave it." _

oOo

She'd stalked out of the room with her computer and left him standing there with his mouth hanging open. That morning she'd shown up in the living room, pale and silent. Neither of them mentioned what had happened the night before but the subject would come up again eventually.

"Mr. Coulter!" The teacher's voice snapped straight through Em's reverie. Apparently a question had been asked of him, but he had no idea what it was.

"I'm sorry?"

"What was the date of the American Revolution?" The teacher snapped.

"I don't know." Em lifted an eyebrow.

"How do you not know the date of the one of the most important events in American history?" He actually seemed shocked. "It's basic syllabus!"

"Perhaps it has escaped your attention, but I'm from the UK. They teach European history there. It's seen as more relevant." Em said coolly.

"Well, I-"

"Perhaps you should give me a chance to learn the syllabus before you question me on it, Mr. Hatchett? I only arrived on Friday, after all."

Hatchett gave a strangled grunt and turned his back on the infuriating smartass of a student. Em sat back in his seat, satisfied that his point had been made. History wasn't one of his strong subjects but he wasn't going to be bullied into failing it during his first lesson. This Hatchett guy was the first twat he'd had to bat away. The rest would soon follow. He'd been lying if he said he hadn't been expecting it. Em sighed. He wasn't the confrontational type but he didn't like being pushed around either. A small nudge to his ribs made him glance around. He'd almost forgotten Violette! He took in her worried expression and smiled reassuringly at her.

"Are you okay, Em?" She said his name softly. "You went all quiet?"

"I spaced out a bit. Sorry about that." He scratched his neck ruefully. "I don't usually do that, but there's been a lot to deal with."

"Oh, I see! I'm sorry."

"For what?" He stared at her, puzzled.

"Um…I don't know." The blush was back.

He smiled in delight. This girl was perfect!

oOo

_Castiel_

The new boy was a smartass, that was for sure. Castiel just couldn't tell if he was an asshole into the bargain. Not yet anyway. He seemed a little too interested in Violette. Was he a creep?

Castiel watched them from the other side of the room. They were more interesting than whatever shit Hatchett was writing in the board. He could only see the back of the new guy's head but it was bent close to Violette's. The expression on her face was happy though. Well, if she wasn't freaked out, he'd have to make his judgment later. He yawned into his hand. Whatever. He had better things to think about.

oOo

_Ren_

The last bell of the day rang. Finally. I felt the tension in my shoulders ease. I wanted to go straight home, kick off my shoes and settle on the couch with a big bag of those chocolate chip cookies Chrissy had brought over. I had to wait for Em, though. Well, technically, I didn't _have_ to wait for him, but I'd have to deal with his sulking all afternoon if I walked off and left him. My brother is freakishly clingy and insistent upon family bonds. And he's a nag. He'd flipped last night, when he caught me looking at flights back home. He started laying into me, asking what I was going to do when I got there, completely taking everything out of context. I don't know what he's so worried about, anyway. The flight alone would take a sizeable chunk out of my savings. It will have to a last resort it things ever become too unbearable here. And if I wanted to surf the web anymore, I'd do it in my room.

I cleared my things from the desk as soon as the teacher dismissed us. I hung back as the rest of the class filed out, not wanting to encounter any awkward bottlenecks in the doorway. I've had enough of proximity to other people and their personal odours for one day, thank you. As soon as the coast was clear, I ducked out into the bustling hallway, careful to keep clear of the clusters of students that were lingering by their lockers. I made my through this obstacle course, ready to latch onto Em as soon as I saw him and drag him home. I reached the double doors without incident, but also without any sign of Em. I scanned the carpark, looking for a lemon yellow Fiat Panda. Instead, all I saw was the smooth blues, blacks, reds and silvers of everyone else's cars. Chrissy wasn't going to pick us up. I remembered her muttering something about Leigh's shop and a new costume. She'd still be in there, flitting about and trying it on.

Getting home would involve a twenty minute trudge uphill in the now cold wind. Grey clouds hovered overhead, blocking out the sun that had been shining earlier. They looked fat and sullen, ready to pour rain down on unsuspecting heads. I was about to head back inside to see if Em was still in class, but as soon as I was back in the doorway, I was promptly shoved out of it. Staggering back against the door, I looked up to see a familiar blonde witch and her cronies.

"Oh, do excuse me." She simpered, before she sneered at me and walked off.

I scowled after her but neglected to comment. I drew a breath to sigh and the Universe decided to make my day even more fun. A lock of my unbound hair flew straight into my mouth. Spluttering and coughing, I spat the hank of hair out. A low chuckle met my ears.

"Sexy."

oOo

**A/N: Sorry to leave it there! Can you guess who our interloper is? I'll try and hop to it with the next update. I never meant to leave it for so long. As ever, reviews are not required. Just make sure to drop by for the next chapter!**


	5. Scoundrel (Part One)

**A/N: Hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter too. And, belated thanks to everyone who has added this to their faves/alerts or submitted a review. Or even the anonymous readers. You all give me the inspiration to keep writing this.**

oOo

**Embers**

**Act the Fifth – Scoundrel (Part One)**

oOo

_Castiel_

_Just like ants._

He thought about playing that childhood game of squishing people in the distance between his fingers but stopped himself. They did look just like ants, though, the way they swarmed out of the double doors and into the parking lot. He spotted a head of pouffy blonde hair. _And there is their Queen_. He snickered to himself and leant against the door of his Camaro . Where was Lysander, anyway? He'd asked for a lift home that morning, Leigh having taken their car to collect a delivery two towns over, so where was he? _Don't tell me he's forgotten, _he grouched. _Again_. His best friend the guy might be, but his memory had more holes than Swiss cheese. Speaking of yellow...

"Were you waiting for me, Castiel?" Amber simpered, posing her body in a way she probably thought was sexy. Instead she looked like a flamingo in a wig. "Are you going to give me a _ride_ home?" The way she lingered on the word "ride" made his skin crawl.

"Dream on, blondie." He sneered.

She was undeterred. She placed both hands on the roof of his car and leaned in, effectively penning him in. "Oh, but I _do_ dream. Do you want to know what I dream about?" She licked her lips. One of her hands left the car to fondle his cherry-red hair. His face turned a similar violent shade. He wasn't quite sure if it was anger or embarrassment. Either way, he grabbed her arms and shoved her forcefully away. She stumbled in her stupid heels and glared at him. "What the hell, Castiel?"

"Don't touch my car and sure as hell don't touch my fucking hair." He spat. He combed his fingers through it angrily, trying to rid of himself of the skin-crawling feeling she left all over him. Who knew what diseases that bitch had? He stalked away in the direction of the school, intent on finding Lysander and dragging him to the Cambridge music store. That'd take his mind off this idiots like Mr. President and his slut sister. All he needed to top of this wonderful day was a run-in with Nathaniel and an absence slip, he thought as he headed up the steps to the school. He paused when he spotted a figure in a purple coat. Whoever it was was doing an amazing impression of Medusa. Coughing, they gagged and spat out a huge chunk of long, black hair. He laughed before he even thought about it.

"Sexy." He taunted.

Medusa turned towards him, revealing itself to be female with the presentation of its face, though to be honest, the super-long hair was kind of a giveaway. Blue eyes glared flatly at him from a pale face. "You try being choked by a piece of your own body." She muttered. His eyebrows shot up. So, the hair-muncher was the new British girl that Iris couldn't shut up about.

"Sorry, Mary Poppins, I can't bend over that far." He scoffed.

She blinked, then laughed. "That escalated quickly."

He smirked at her, amused despite himself. Then it occurred to him that he was being far too nice and it might occur to Mary Poppins that he was some knight in shining armour.

"What are you doing here, Poppins?" He asked gruffly.

"Here, on the steps, here on Earth? Be a little more specific."

"Here. This school."

oOo

_Ren_

Who was this random punk-wannabe? I looked down at him from the top of the stairs, wondering why he'd stopped to interrogate me. And Mary Poppins, seriously? That was worse than Rapunzel.

"Here. This school." He demanded to know.

I thought about telling him to mind his own business but I'd already pissed off one school psycho today. No need to do the same with this second one. What harm could he do with the truth, anyway? "I was sent to live here while my parents are in Africa."

"Why did they send you to Sweet Amoris? This place is the asshole of nowhere."

"My aunt lives here. Why all the curiosity?" I countered his barrage of questions with one of my own. Instead of answering me, however, he peered up at my face, eyes searching for something. Whatever he was looking for, he obviously found it, because his shoulders started to shake and a ragged laugh came out of his mouth. He smirked at me, practically gleeful. It was quite frightening. Then he lost it completely, bending double and holding onto the railing for support as he cackled – yes, cackled- at whatever he'd discovered.

"Y-you're related to that fairy nutjob aren't you? Holy shit, are you Rapunzel then? Is she your fairy godmother?"

"Wrong fairytale." I said stiffly, feeling my face grow warm at his obvious amusement. "I'd never let you in my tower." I winced at my lame comeback but he didn't seem to notice. When he finally pulled himself together and straightened up, the smirk was gone. I hoped he hadn't heard my last retort. He advanced slowly, coming towards me up the steps. The second his boots hit the concrete of the top step, he smirked down at me.

"Are you sure about that?" He'd definitely heard.

I'd not noticed before, that his grey eyes were as smoky as his voice. Come to think of it, he smelled of cigarettes too. Quite a heady combination. I took a step back.

"Yeah." I grasped for straws. "You look like the type who likes older women." This snarky double-talk wasn't my thing and his mood changes were giving me whiplash – amused, annoyed, amused again, flirtatious? The only reason I'd started speaking to him in the first place was because he'd spoken to me first. If it were any other day I wouldn't have spoken to him at all. I'm not comfortable around the bad-boy type. And he was close. Too close. "I should give you my aunt's number. She has a Prince Charming costume that's just your size."

"I think I'll pass, Mary Poppins." He stepped back and I was finally able to breathe. I pushed my hair behind my ears, thinking of a way to extricate myself from this conversation with this red-headed demon. I didn't even know his name. Not that I wanted to. I didn't need to make an excuse, however, since, with one last smirk, he shouldered his way through the doors and into the school.

I decided to wait a few minutes before I went in to look for Em, just in case. That...guy might think I was following him and shoot me one of those stupid little smirks. Who did he think was, anyway? Making comments on my family and giving me that stupid nickname. My real name is bad enough. I don't need nicknames on top of it. Stuffing my hands into my pockets, I huffed. _How long does Em expect me to wait for him, anyway? _I checked my phone. 15:49. He was twenty minutes late!

I shoved the doors open and trod down the hallways to Em's classroom. The door was locked so I peeped through the little window right above the handle. There he was! Sitting miserable at the front desk, Em was copying down lines from the board. There was no teacher in sight. I jiggled the handle again and he glanced up. His eyes widened when he caught sight of me in the window. I gave him my best WTF face. Em grimaced and pointed to the board. "**I will not talk back to my teachers x 100**" I stared. Em had detention? _Em_? That was impossible. At our old school the teachers had loved him. One even bought him a birthday present. He's the nicer one out of our duo, the one with all the people skills. I've rarely been known to get past mildly grumpy. Baffled, I pulled out my phone and dialed him. I _had_ to hear this. He pulled out his own mobile and flipped it open.

"Well, hello there." It was kinda weird, seeing his lips move but hearing his voice sound so distant.

"Hi. _How_ did you get detention on the first day, idiot?"

"The History teacher seems to have a grudge against me. As far as I got, he was annoyed that I don't know the dates of the American Revolution. He might also hate me 'cause of the whole English thing. We were kinda mean in the Revolution, apparently."

"And that's a reason to give you detention?"

"Apparently." He shrugged.

"And why is the door locked?" I tried the handle again, for emphasis. Not because I was secretly hoping it was just stuck.

"He said he'd come back in an hour to check my work and let me go."

"I'm pretty sure this counts as wrongful imprisonment." I muttered. "Did he go to the teacher's lounge?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Good." I said acidly, ending the hall and marching off in that direction. Iris had pointed out all the important locations between classes so I made my way with confidence to the right door, fuming. How much more shit was this first day going to throw at us? I'd already had a fight with bitch-queen and weird conversation with that redhead. I reached the door, still plastered with last year's notices and no smoking signs. There was no window to look through, probably so they could eat their takeaways and bitch about us in peace. I hesistated a second, but the thought of my brother locked up in that classroom gave me fresh determination. I knocked loudly on the door. The noise of the television inside was turned up. Irritated, I knocked louder. I heard a loud sigh and the door was pulled away from my hand. Framed in the doorway was the Principal, somehow looking as prim and proper as she had first thing this morning. She was the kind of woman who probably set her hair into a helmet and covered her couches with plastic. Her expression, however, was far from the saintly smile she'd worn earlier.

"Yes, Miss Coulter. What do you want?"

I glanced from her to the television, where an oily latino man was kissing the neck of a busty blonde woman. ~"_Oh, Romaro, oh, oh..."_~ That explained the impatience. She wanted to get back to her smut.

"I'm looking for Mr. Hatchett, ma'am."

She sighed and glanced back into the room. "Phil, a student wants you."

A muffled curse issued from deeper in the room and a thin man with curtains of lank brown hair shuffled into view. I took in his stained shirt and wonky tie and sighed. He was obviously a Sad Bastard. Sad Bastards are men or women with no life and jobs that they hate, so they take it out on everyone around them. Today my brother was the victim.

"Who are you and what do you want?" He grunted at me, his eyes looking over my shoulder rather than at my face. "Make it quick. I'm busy."

I had to restrain myself from cussing him out. Instead I ramped up the snappy accent and let loose. "What I want is to know why you have my brother locked in a classroom, unsupervised. I'd also like to know why you gave him a detention on his first day for an incredibly flimsy reason and without giving his guardian any notice. Or me, for that matter. I've been waiting outside for him and worrying. You've locked him up and walked off without letting anyone know where he is." I scowled up at him. "That sounds like false imprisonment to me. Sir." I added belatedly.

Oh, he was definitely looking at me now, staring at me through his rimless glasses. "Who do you think you're talking to-" He started.

"Phil." The Principal had returned, this time with a very different attitude than before. "Is what Miss Coulter said true?"

Hatchett turned pale. "Well, I...He was backchatting me!" He protested.

"He said you got angry because he didn't know when the American Revolution happened. He tried to explain that we're not taught that back home and it was only his first day, but you, _sir_, detained him after class." I butted in.

"Phil! You left your detention unattended and _locked him in?_" Her voice rose indignantly with every word. "Give me the keys." She held out her hand imperiously. Hatchett reached into his back pocket and dropped them sullenly into her palm. She closed her fist over them and turned to me. "Come with me."

"Um, okay." God, that woman is scary when she's angry. Her hair was practically standing on end. She looked ready to take someone's head off. I could only hope that it wasn't mine. I followed in her wake as she charged down the hallways. Who'd have thought such a pruny old woman could move so fast? I spotted redhead again in the hall, this time accompanied by a boy with strange silver hair. I only got a look at that one from behind, but something about the cut of his clothes seemed odd. I squinted at his back, trying to figure it out. Redhead grinned at me and I glanced away quickly, hurrying after the Principal as she tanked through the lingering students. She was already throwing open the door to the History classroom when I caught up with her. Em was still sitting at his desk, his blue eyes bugging out of his head.

"You're free to go, Mr. Coulter." She huffed. "I apologise for this unfortunate misunderstanding." We both just kind of nodded at her. She was stil pink in the face and grey hair was rapidly escaping from her bun. She was a prim, pink bomb about to explode. Em collected his stuff and we beat a hasty retreat out of the school. As we crossed the car park, Em turned to me, curiosity written all over his face.

"What did you _do_?"

"Accused Hatchett of false imprisonment?" I replied innocently.

Em stared at me for a long moment. Then he dissolved into giggles, his face creasing up. I don't see why. It was the easiest way to get him out without landing myself in detention too. The school is pretty small and couldn't afford a lawsuit. Of course, our parents would have wrinkled their brows in confusion than hire a lawyer to prosecute the man who locked their son in a classroom so he could go eat cheap sushi and watch latin melodramas. The school, however, does not know that, so the Principal obviously jumped in to prevent any complaints. Fear is a good motivator. So is money.

"It got you out of there, didn't it?" I said testily, wrapping my scarf around my face against the cold and to hid the embarrassed heat that was stoking in my cheeks. Em finally pulled himself together, taking a couple of deep breaths. All I seemed to do today was make guys laugh at me. Though Em's giggles were nothing like redhead's raspy laugh.

"Are you done?" I asked flatly.

"Yes, done. All done." He paused. "And thanks, really. I didn't trust that git not to forget me completely and go home."

"He had no right to give you a detention in the first place." I sniffed.

"True. Did you yell at him or something?"

"No, but I wasn't going to let him get away with it either. No-one messes with my little brother." I grinned at him.

"I'm only two minutes younger!" He whined.

"Accept my dominion and you shall not suffer."

"No! I refuse to bow to your tyranny, vile woman!"

I lifted an eyebrow. "Did you just call me vile?"

"Yes. You smell." Was his witty reply.

"Prat." I said, rounding off the conversation nicely. A droplet of water splashed onto my nose. I glanced up at the sky. The clouds that had been grey before were now an ugly black colour and eagerly releasing their burden. More raindrops landed on my face.

"See, even the sky thinks you need a shower."

I smacked his arm in retaliation. "We have to walk home through this, moron."

"What? Where's Tinkerbell?" He'd insisted on calling her that ever since the costume.

"Probably at Leigh's shop bestowing wishes. I'm not in the mood to go around looking for in the rain. It'll be home a lot quicker if we just go now. If you stop whining I'll order us a pizza." He sighed but followed me dutifully out of the gates and down the road.

"So, Miss Coulter. How was your first day at Sweet Amoris High?"

"Mostly shit." I pulled my scarf over my head against the rain. "And yours?"

"Partially shit." He admitted.

"Well, shit."

oOo

_Castiel_

"The problem's with this chord progression here." Castiel stabbed his finger at a particular squiggle in a whole mess of squiggles. Lysander squinted his mismatched eyes at them, wondering just _what_, exactly, his friend was talking about. "We need to fix this for the time signature to make sense and so that I can actually play it." The redhead went on, oblivious to the other boy's confusion. "We've nearly got it."

"That's great, Cas. Do you think you can fix it?" Lysander smiled gamely.

"Yeah, but you'll need to rewrite the lyrics for that one bit."

Lysander's eyes sharpened with attention. "Where?"

Silently, Castiel pointed to one of the sheets of paper scattered all around them across his bedroom floor. Lysander picked up the sheet and pulled a pen from behind his ear, his forehead furrowed with concentration. It was probably for the best, Castiel thought, that writing lyrics bored him to tears and that Lysander's eyes glazed over whenever Castiel started talking about chords and riffs. They'd never compete for creative space in the band, at least. He leant against the edge of his bed, waiting for Lysander to finish. It could be a while. The guy was picky as hell. _That's a good thing_, he reminded himself, _or he'd be singing any old crap up on stage._ He shuddered at the thought. The worst thing a musician could be called was mediocre. If they were crap, they'd at least be entertaining. Being boring was way worse than being crap. Debrah had taught him that. He scowled at the memory and pushed it away. Debrah had taught him a _lot_ of things. Like how people were just waiting to screw you over. Lysander and Demon were the only two people -well, person and dog- that he trusted in the world. His parents cared about their careers far more than they did him. It was blatantly obvious in the way they stayed away for so many months at a time. That girl had said something similar. Her parents had sent her and her brother halfway around the world to this hole of a town while they had gone in the opposite direction to Africa or somewhere. Lyanader and his brother were on their own too, since their parents couldn't handle urban living. _If you can call this place urban. _What was this town, a dumping ground for unwanted kids? He crumpled the paper he was doodling on and threw it at the wall, annoyed at the way he couldn't keep his thoughts on track today. First Debrah, then his parents, even that two-minute, throwaway conversation with a random girl who meant nothing to him.

"I met that new girl." He found himself saying.

Lysander glanced up from his paper. "And?"

"And nothing? She's...alright, I guess. Didn't get her name." He shrugged, crumpling another sheet of paper and throwing it.

"Her name is Ren Coulter." Lysander informed him, his eyes drifting back to the sheet of lyrics.

Castiel's head whipped round. "How do you know that?"

"Iris." Lysander replied succinctly, not even glancing up. "The brother's name is Em, short for Emmanuel. I believe Ren's is short for something too, but Iris couldn't find out what."

Castiel scoffed. "Why are you all over them. You haven't even met them yet. They're just people, stupid as the rest of them."

Lysander fixed his bright eyes on the redhead. "You're the one who brought them up, Cas. Or should I say, _her._" There was the hint of a smirk around the corners of his mouth. Castiel stared at him for a second as his brain absorbed that, then he scowled.

"You think I like Mary Poppins? You fucking kidding me, Lys? I barely know her. No, I _don't_ know her." He insisted.

"Right. Got it." The silver-haired boy's tone told him that he wasn't convinced in the least. "I haven't seen her, but Iris said that she's pretty."

"Takes more than a nice face to get me interested." Castiel muttered.

"So you think she has a nice face?" Lysander asked, his silver eyebrows almost vanishing into his hairline. Knowing he was being ribbed now, Castiel's face cracked into a grin.

"Dude, shut up."

oOo

**A/N: Sorry if this seemed kind of a filler chapter, but I wanted them to meet, finally. It's actually a larger chapter that I broke down into two to save your eyes. Look out for the next chapter around next Wednesday. I'm trying to make that my official updating day. No need to review. If you have any questions, PM me. And I hope you enjoyed it.**

**P.S: Still seeking a Beta. **


	6. Scoundrel (Part Two)

**A/N: I apologise for how late this is. I'll be posting another chapter tomorrow to keep my update schedule tight. **

oOo

**Embers**

**Act the Sixth – Scoundrel (Part Two)**

oOo

_Ren_

"Beautiful weather we're having." Em remarked as he stared out the kitchen window. "Just like home. What happened to all the sun I was promised?"

"Life is a bitch." I spoke around the slice of toast wedged in my mouth. I pushed aside a cabbage -why did we have a cabbage?- and found my quarry. I carried the orange juice to table, pouring two glasses. Em grabbed his and necked it, tilting his head right back. I watched his adam's apple bob and raised an eyebrow.

"Why do you always do that?"

Em slammed the glass down like a shot. "Aaah. Because orange juice tastes gross if you just sip at it." He said this as thought it made perfect sense.

"If you drink it like that you won't taste it at all."

Em nodded. "Yeah, that's exactly my point. It's disgusting."

I stared at him. "If you hate it why do you drink it every day?"

"What else are you supposed to drink with breakfast?" He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. I was still staring at him incredulously when he left to get ready. When I snapped out if it, I realised that the bastard had left me with the washing up. I piled the breakfast dishes in the sink and left them there. Let him deal with them after school. That'll teach him to use bad logic on me.

I was already washed and dressed, so I slipped on my coat and waited from Em in the hall. He took his own sweet time about it, as usual. Punctuality isn't one of my brother's strong suits. He arrived ten minutes later, with his hair combed, dressed in a clean black button-down shirt and black jeans. He looked even more put-together than when we'd gone out to the diner. I didn't even need to ask who he was trying to impress this time. I'd seen the stupid dreamy look on his face every time Violette came up in conversation. That girl had him eating out of the palm of her hand after a single day and she didn't even know it. I grinned knowingly at him.

He didn't even have the decency to blush. Why did he get to act the fool most of the time but be as cool as a cucumber when it came to the opposite sex? I'm so hopeless with them that I don't even bother. Well, not very often, anyway.

We locked up and walked down into town. Chrissy was obviously unreliable so we'd declined her offer to ferry us to and from school until our provisional licenses came through. Walking would do us no harm, for a couple of weeks anyway. The sky was already grey and miserable, promising another cold day. It did nothing to lighten my mood. Yesterday had been a nightmare and today would probably be no different. I would have Hatchett glaring at me whenever he saw me, Bitch-Queen waiting to get my back for our verbal spat and Red standing on the sidelines, smirking all over his face. I sighed into the fabric of my scarf just as the local shop came into view. And now I had to go and get my photograph taken.

I hate having my picture taken. I'm usually blinking or looking in the wrong direction when the flash goes off. That's why most of the photos in the family albums were taken by me. Or feature me trying to edge out of shot whilst the timer is counting down. The only person who can take a good picture of me is Em. He usually does it when I'm not looking. There's a pretty good one of me adjusting my headphones and looking absently in the distance. That one was pinned above my desk back home. I sort of wish I'd brought it with me.

The door of the convenience store caused a small bell to jingle as I opened it. As soon as that noise sounded, there was a scuffle from behind the counter. The clerk, an elderly Asian man, popped up, smiling all over his face. Even his wrinkles looked happy to see us. I spotted the photobooth in the corner.

"We just need to take some ID photos for school." I said, pointing to the curtained box. "How much is it?"

"Ten dollars each." He said amiably. "Just put money in the slot. It's automatic." With that, he ducked back down to whatever he was doing behind the counter. _He must be very trusting._ I was used to newsagent owners back home watching you like a hawk because they thought you'd steal a chocolate bar if they so much as blinked.

Em ducked into the booth first, pulling the curtain across so that he was shielded from view. A few minutes passed. I heard him giggling again.

"You know, you sound like a five-year-old girl when you laugh like that." I pointed out, leaning against the side of the booth.

There was no answer except for a click and a whirr as Em's pictures dropped into the receiving tray. I picked them up my the corners and. My face creased into a smile. The first three pictures were of him pulling horrific faces at the camera. In one he'd even hooked his fingers into his mouth and pulled it open wide, flashing all his gums at the camera. The last one was a perfectly serious, straight-faced Em looking solemnly at the lens. A hand emerged from behind the curtain and plucked the photos from my grasp. Cue more giggling. I rolled my eyes and pulled back the curtain.

"Hurry up. If we're late, on your head be it." I was being a grump, but no-one should be forced to tolerate that much happiness so early in the morning. It was like being related to Spongebob Squarepants.

Bob slid out of the booth. I took his place. He pulled the curtain across, isolating me in the white box. I fed money into the slot and selected the photo strip option. The camera flashed faster than I expected, so my first picture had me startled and half out of shot. The next two I sat there, deadpan, not allowing myself to blink. I wasn't going to spend another ten dollars on this. Not when I still had to give Nathaniel another $25 for my registration fee. Just as I was preparing for the last flash, the curtain was whipped back and Em mashed his face up against mine. I laughed just as the flash went off.

We collected out photos and I left the store, stuffing them into my bag, but when I looked behind me I could see Em through the glass, still at the counter. He bounded out a few minutes later, clutching a large purple object. He moved his hand and I saw a familiar logo.

"They sell Cadbury's here?" I lunged for the purple bar. Em whipped his arm above his head and jogged down the street, whooping. I ran after him, making repeated attempts to snatch it out of his hands. It was _chocolate_. It was _Cadbury's_ chocolate. Something occurred to me.

"Hold on. Is that the weird Hershey's version?" I asked, my reaching hand faltering. Em stopped and turned the bar over.

"Nope. It says "Made in Great Britain". Explains the inflated price." He danced out of my reach as I made to grab the chocolate yet again. He laughed at me and stuffed the bar into his satchel. "I'll split it with you later." I glared at him. Then at the satchel that was keeping my chocolate prisoner.

"You'd better." I threatened, glancing at my phone. "And we'd better get moving. We've got fifteen minutes to get to class."

oOo

I stared at Mr. Hatchett, wondering if he was going to try and pull something. Considering that I'd made a show of him yesterday, I half expected him to call me out on it by giving me hell. All he did, however, was sneer at me when I walked through the door. I can deal with glares and sneers. A Sad Bastard like him is far more likely to pick on members of his own gender. Fear of claims of sexism and sexual-harassment mostly. There was one teacher that Iris had whispered I ought to beware of, when I gave her my theory on Hatchett.

"Mr. McFarlane is a bit of a pig. My friend Kim says he never looks her in the face, just straight down her shirt." Iris shuddered at the thought. "It's even worse because he's old enough to be her dad. I'm surprised he hans't been fired yet."

I wrinkled my nose with disgust. "Why do they let people like that become teachers?"

"If you're quite finished gossiping, Miss Coulter?" Hatchett's whiny voice cut into our conversation.

We both mumbled, "Yes, sir." He turned back to his lecture, apparently satisfied by our humility. That didn't stop Iris smirking at me as soon as his back was turned.

oOo

By lunchtime my head was nodding on my shoulders. I was blinking heavy eyelids at Mr. Faraize when the bell rang, startling me so much I nearly pitched sideways out of my seat. I caught myself on the desk, hoping no-one had seen. I glanced around and noticed one or two other people picking their heads up from their desks too. Apparently, Biology wasn't a popular subject. _I bet everyone pays attention when it's sex ed._ I chuckled in my mind.

I left the lab, barely stopping to collect the homework written out on the board. The sound of the bell had woken up my stomach too. It gurgled as I weaved down the hall, bitching at me. I prodded it, hoping to shut it up. No such luck. It just growled at me.

"Hungry?" Em laughed as he fell into step with me. I stared at him.

"Where did you come from?"

He raised an eyebrow."You ought to know, being my twin."

I laughed, swatting him with my father.

"Ow! Child abuse!"

"I'm not your mother."

"Thank God." He noticed me glaring at him. "What? You'd be too busy reading and forget to feed me. I'd starve to death!"

"You're so melodramatic." I sighed, tapping on the door of the student council room.

"Yes?" Came the terse reply. I pushed open the door to see Nathaniel, honey-voiced, golden-eyed Nathaniel, leaning over a desk scattered with papers, his forehead scrunched up with agitation. He glanced in our direction, though his face didn't get much friendlier.

"Uh, we have what you asked for." Em held up the envelopes of cash and the photographs. He stepped forward and placed them gingerly on the edge of the desk.

Nathaniel sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. "Thanks. I'll deal with it all later and give it to the Principal." He scowled at the cluttered desk. "I'm a little busy right now because someone has screwed up our filing system. Honestly, what kind of idiot-"

I didn't get to hear the rest, because Em had been slowly edging out of the room, dragging me with him. He closed the door with exaggerated care, putting his finger to his lips. "Sshh… We'll come back later." He whispered.

"What are you-?"

"Hey, Coulter. You coming?" A male voice called from down the hall. I turned. It was a tall boy, with a basketball vest and silver bands winking in his dreadlocks. He had a basketball tucked under one arm.

"Oh." Em muttered. "Ren, I'm sorry by I promised Dajan that I'd play a couple games with him today." He scratched the back of his neck. "I mean, you can come and watch-"

"No." I smiled at him. "It's cool. I'll be fine. Go ahead."

He searched my face for a few seconds before smiling, reassured. "Thanks. I'll catch up with you after school." He jogged off to meet up with his new friend.

What? Did you think that I was going to demand that he spend time with me? I didn't need Em worrying about me more than he already was. I might hate being here and hate having to come to this school, despite Iris and her kindness, but I wasn't going to make him be miserable too. Besides, I don't need a babysitter.

I'd just find a quiet corner and crack open a book. In pursuit of this fabled peace and quiet, I wandered out the back doors into the courtyard. The rain that had been threatening to fall since this morning hadn't made an appearance yet, but the sky was still grey and a chilly breeze whipped leaves and trash across the concrete. In the distance I spotted Em and that Dajan guy heading into the gym. I shrugged and looked around for Iris and co. The ginger-haired girl was nowhere to be seen and I didn't want to run around after her like a lost puppy. Instead, I headed for the green area behind the benches and the concrete. I'd find a dry patch of grass and-

"Well, if it isn't Mary Poppins."

That same rough voice from yesterday stopped me in my tracks. Slowly, I turned to find the redhead standing behind me, his arms folded in his black leather jacket. He was -you got it- smirking. Seriously, did this guy not have another expression in his repertoire? And the nickname again?

"Hey, Ginger." I said absently, looking for an escape route. I probably could do without another double-sided conversation with this guy.

"Ginger?" He scoffed.

"Well, the hair." I pointed to his head, as though he might not have noticed the fire-truck red colour of his hair.

"It's dyed." He sneered. "If anyone's ginger, it's Iris."

"You have a point." I mused. "If you're not Ginger, then who are you?" It was about time this guy gave me his name anyway. Then I'd know what to call him when I told him to stop flirting and go practice another facial expression in the mirror.

"Castiel Braxton." He said it reluctantly. Was he so precious about his name?

"Castiel, huh?" I tried it out. It rolled off my tongue easily. I liked it. It suited him, but no way in hell was I going to tell him that. "I'm Ren Coulter, though I doubt you'll bother to use it." I said dryly.

"You got that right, Mary Poppins."

I rolled my eyes. "Because "Ren" is such a mouthful."

He just smir- was that a _smile_? From the Smirkinator? He actually looked amused, rather than mocking. Hell, he was even a little bit good-looking without the smirk. Just a bit. "Ren's boring. Unless you wanna tell me what it's short for?" Okay, _now_ he was smirking. How the hell did he know my name was short for something anyway? It could be the bird, the wren, for all he knew. _Unless Iris has been talking about me?_

"Uh, no." Either way, I wasn't going to tell anyone my full name, least of all this sneering, swearing, bad-boy wannabe.

"Then I'll call you Mary Poppins."

I sighed. My stomach was really starting to hurt now. I was officially too hungry to be snarky. "Whatever you want, Castiel." I went to move past him, but soon found my way blocked by something tall and wearing a faded Winged Skull t-shirt. Yup, Castiel. I glanced up at him. He was doing that looming thing again, where he stared down at me with those smoky grey eyes and made me feel all kinds of stupid.

"_Whatever_ I want, Poppins?" The Smirk™ widened.

"Figure of speech, Castiel." I said. I wanted to prod him in the chest, move him out of the way somehow but something told me that touching him would be a bad idea. I'm not sure what sort of bad, but bad all the same. This Castiel guy probably flirted with every girl he came across. I was nothing special. And I was hungry. "I've already wasted five minutes of my break dealing with the student president and forms, so…"

"You had to deal with that idiot Nat, huh?" A miracle happened. He backed off, giving me room to breathe and distance from those stupid eyes of his. "Yeah, good luck with him. He's got a stick so far up his ass he coughs splinters." He spat.

Despite the beautiful imagery, I was intrigued by his sudden vehemence. "You don't sound like a fan."

He scowled. "We're not exactly best friends. He's an interfering asshole."

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind. I'm only dealing with him to finish my enrolment."

He seemed to relax at that, though God knows why. His expression softened. "Yeah, better get that out of the way or they'll never leave you alone." Freedom was in sight.

"Thanks. See you later, Castiel." I couldn't stop myself from saying his name one more time.

"See you around, Poppins." He did love that nickname, didn't he?

I shook my head and skirted around him, making for the trees to eat my long awaited lunch and enjoy the remaining shreds of my break.

oOo

_Castiel_

He watched her go, blue-green scarf flapping over her shoulder in the wind. She was a strange one. He could tell that much after their two incredibly brief conversations. She didn't look back. If she had he would have glanced in another direction immediately. She was funny. Or maybe it was just the accent. Who knew sarcasm sounded so much better in that weird accent? Hell, half the time she barely seemed to be paying attention to him. Kind of the opposite of what he was used to. Half the girls in the school whined at him for attention, wanting a piece of the bad-boy image to distinguish them from their equally pathetic friends. No, she-

He caught himself.

What the hell was he doing? He'd told Lysander just yesterday that he knew nothing about that girl. And he still didn't. Only her name and whatever Iris gabbled about in his presence. Not much to be going on when forming an opinion. Even her brother was hard to pin down. He scoffed and turned to the doors, but curiosity did make him glance back one more time. He saw a flash of purple amongst the trees. She was reading. Of course.

He shook his head and entered the school, heading straight for the stairwell. He needed a cigarette and the cold air to clear his head. Obviously school was messing with his brain if he was this muddled after being back for two days. Either that or it was Lysander and his stupid comments. At the top of the stairs he reached the locked door that led out to the roof. He pulled the keys out of his pocket and let himself out onto the flat rooftop, locking the door behind him just in case the janitor came by.

Immediately a breeze came along to ruffle his cherry-red hair. He patted his other pocket, looking for the small cellophane box he kept there. He didn't smoke all the time. It was mostly when he came up here on the roof, where he could watch the smoke coil away over the skyline. Or when his brain was malfunctioning. Today was both. He leant against the low wall, lighting up the white stick that he balanced between his thin lips.

Sweet Amoris was much better from up here, when you didn't have to see the ugly bits up close and personal. Where you didn't have adults glaring at you in disapproval or little girls following you around, expecting you to be something you weren't. You could look into the distance and see past Leigh's shop, past the apartments and the stores and the downtown area to the shadow buildings that lay beyond it. There were bigger and better things than Sweet Amoris, and he'd go looking for them one day.

oOo

_Ren_

_He's late again._ I hunched up against the wall, pulling my scarf tighter around my face. I breathed in the smell of cotton and detergent and closed my eyes. Perhaps I should tell him to walk home on his own from now on. It was better than sitting out here on the school steps day after day, waiting for him to finish socialising. I wanted to go home, well, back to the flat, not home_. Home is far out of reach._ I scowled at the thought, my eyebrows bunching up above my nose. I was getting a tension headache from all this frowning. I could feel it. I hugged my knees, wishing the stone wasn't quite so cold and hard, as it was making my butt completely numb.

Just as I was about to get up and go, the doors opened. Out came Em, a small crowd following in his wake. In that crowd I spotted the tall form of Dajan, as well as several others I knew only by sight. They'd probably been shooting hoops in the gym while I'd been here waiting.

_Thanks for remembering me, bro._ I thought sourly, glaring at him.

"Crap. Ren, you're still waiting for me? I thought you'd have left already. I didn't mean to make you wait." He scratched the back of his neck, obviously feeling awkward and guilty. His face dropped a little more. "Um. I've been invited to go to the diner with these guys. Do you want to come?" He hesitated, looking towards Dajan to see if that would be alright. The taller boy shrugged.

I stood up, pulling my scarf down. "Enjoy yourself. See you at home." I didn't miss Em's concerned frown at my cold tone, but I wasn't in any mood to reassure him.

The cold reached my unprotected face as I stalked off in the direction of the gates. Out of the corner of my eye I could see them all heading out a green Jeep. _He could have at least texted me. _I was used to him being distracted by friends, clubs and sports, but he'd never been downright inconsiderate before. I'd spent the whole day being brushed off by him and it was only our second day at the school. How long before he forgot about me completely, so surrounded by friends and admirers that his pale, gawky sister was nothing more than an embarrassing smudge in the background.

_Overdramatic again._ I sighed. What was I supposed to do now? I barely knew anyone in this town. In this _country. _And my one ally against it all was off eating bacon double cheeseburgers with his basketball buddies. _Easy_, my brain said, _retail therapy. _Chrissy had been raving about Leigh's clothing store since we'd arrived. Now I had the time, incentive and money to check it out myself. I'd blow my parents bribe money on clothes I didn't need-

"Still here, Poppins?"

I whirled around, coming face to face with Castiel for the second time that day. How the hell did he keep sneaking up on me? I glanced down at his feet which were encased in heavy Doc Martens. They didn't look quiet in the least. So, was he some kind of annoying ginger ninja?

"Yeah, but so are you." I pointed out, trying to cover up my surprise. "You don't strike me as the type to hang around school one second longer than you have to." He barely seemed to be here at all.

He frowned slightly, folding his arms across his chest. "What do you mean by that?"

"I'm not calling you stupid." I said hastily. "But I don't see you as the extra curricular type." Jeez. Way to put my foot in my mouth.

"Don't assume anything about me. You're gonna get it wrong." He said roughly. His frown deepened. "You don't know anything about me."

"You're right. I don't. Sorry." I'd had about enough. Yanking my bag strap up my shoulder, I turned to walk away. That was, until someone grabbed that same strap and stopped me.

"Hey."

"What?" I grumbled, trying to pull my bag out of his grasp.

"Come on. I wanna show you something." He gave my bag one last tug and let go. Turning back towards him, I gave him a puzzled look.

"What?"

"Is that all you can say? Come on, then, before I change my mind." He turned back towards the school, his hands casually stuffed into his pockets, expecting me to follow. I jogged a few steps to catch up. He glanced at me with that infuriating smirk, but didn't say anything.

I followed him in silence, staring at the cracked leather of his jacket. We turned a couple hallways and then he was leading me up the stairwell.

"Where exactly are we going, Castiel?" I asked suspiciously. That didn't stop me jogging up after him though.

"Calm down, Poppins. I'm not leading you off to some dark corner to do unspeakable things to you." He stopped on the stairs and turned, leering down at me. "Unless you want me to."

I gave him a flat look. "Dream on."

Castiel just grinned at me. I swallowed down another retort and was glad of the dim stairwell. Did he have to keep smiling at me? When he carried on up the stairs I pressed a hand to my warm cheek. Being pale can be burdensome if you're easily embarrassed. I wondered what floor he would turn off on, but no he just kept going up and up until we reached a dead end in the form of a locked door. I heard a quiet jingle and then he was fiddling with the lock. The door was flung open.

We stepped out onto the roof.

I instantly wanted to shrink back against the shelter and scream at him for bringing me up here. But he was watching me again, trying to gauge my reaction to his surprise. _Never show weakness. _I forced myself to walk around on my shaking legs, ignoring the panic that was building up in my head. Thankfully, I was doing a pretty good job of hiding my turbulent emotions.

"You're scared of heights, aren't you." Or not.

"N-no! Of course not. It's just really cold up here!" I said shrilly, backing off when he started to approach. I felt his hand land on my arm. "W-what are you doing?"

"Come on." He sighed, giving me a tug in the direction of the edge. A low wall ran along the perimeter of the roof, but I didn't trust it to keep me from falling. I set my feet on the concrete.

"What the hell, Castiel?" I tried to pull my arm out of his grip.

He rolled his eyes and gave an exaggerated sigh. "I'm not trying to shove you over the edge, idiot. Look at the view. I'll keep hold of you." He pulled again. This time I let him.

He edged me over to the wall, in the direction facing the town. Despite my fear and hesitation, my breath caught. The grey sky was clearing, pale patches of blue showing through the clouds. Beams of sunlight stretched between them and down to the earth. The town was bathed in light and shadow that danced over the roofs of the many buildings. Between these the green canopies of parks and trees cut colourful swathes through the otherwise grey landscape. I stopped thinking about how high we were.

"It's amazing." I breathed, eyes wide at the sight.

"Yeah, it's pretty cool." Castiel's hand didn't leave my upper arm but his firm grip loosened slightly when he saw that I'd stopped freaking out. The part of me that wasn't drinking in the view could feel the warmth of it burning through my layers of clothing. I was careful not to look at him. "So, how can you be scared of heights, anyway? You fly around with an umbrella."

Despite myself, I chuckled. "Of course. It's the only cool way to travel."

His throaty laugh answered me.

oOo

**A/N: Sorry, guys. Weird chapter. I spent two weeks trying to get it right and I still don't know if it's right. I'll leave it as it is for now. Next update tomorrow.**

**-FooTen. **


	7. Dissemble

**A/N: If you haven't read Chapter Six, which was posted yesterday, then it's advisable to do so before reading this, or it won't make much sense. Special thanks to SeaCatt for your reviews. This chapter is for you.**

oOo

**Embers**

**Act the Seventh - Dissemble**

oOo

_Ren_

It's funny how days can begin to blend together when you're doing the same thing every day. It was the same routine - wake up, walk to school, class, lunch, class, wait for Em, go home. Two days passed with this exact pattern. And each day Emmanuel made a different apology when he was walking off with his new friends. Each time he invited me to come along every time and every time I declined. What would be the point? His friends were exactly the kind of people that make me feel like an inept child: fit, intelligent and wealthy. I'm lazy, self-indulgent and not all that wealthy either. I didn't call him out on it either. He'd start to worry about me, cutting off his own fun to keep an eye on me, or feel like he was abandoning me. If he kept that up, he'd only grow to resent me in the end. I'm a perfectly capable human being. I can make friends of my own without my brother holding my hand.

I wasn't doing too badly. Iris's group invited me to eat with them at lunch, showing the same easy acceptance they had on the first day. I could probably call them my friends and not be telling a dirty great lie. And then there was Castiel.

I had no idea what to call Castiel. "Friend" might be pushing it. He still called me "Poppins" and made disturbing innuendos to set me off balance, but that hard, challenging edge I'd first noticed was crumbling away, bit by bit. He nodded at me in the hallway a couple of times, chucking out my new nickname as a form of greeting. He didn't invite me up to the roof again, but I could remember the feeling of his hand on my arm as he'd held me steady and the rough sound of his laughter. Yeah. I might not be able to call Castiel Braxton a friend, but he was something alright. _A pain in the butt._

I was finding my feet, kind of.

Friday morning came with actual sunshine. I felt some of my energy returning to me as it beat down on my head. It'd felt like I was perpetually cold since arriving in Connecticut but the heat seeped down into my skin, warming me from inside out. I still dressed sensibly. I didn't want to be that girl who came to school in a tank top and sandals only to find it started pissing down with rain halfway through the day. I wore my navy tea dress again, with a shrug, leggings and red Converse. There was no wind for once, as well, so I tied my hair up into a ponytail. The bands slipped free and sat around my face. I felt good, lighter and happier than I had all week.

As soon as I stepped through the doors, I knew something was wrong. Sniggers and whispers raced through the crowd at my appearance. I scanned around for the source of the reaction and saw quite a few students holding sheets of paper. Another one lay on the ground near my feet. I stooped to pick it up, dreading what could be on the other side. When I flipped it over, though, what I saw made my eyebrows creep towards my hairline. My throat itched all of a sudden. I heard myself chuckle.

My ID photo was blown up to fill half the A4 sheet, then over the top someone had squiggled on glasses, a mole, a moustache and devil horns. Was this why they were all staring at me? What did they expect me to do, run off sobbing that my life was over? Anyone with eyes could plainly see I didn't have a moustache and horns. I _did_ wonder, however, how that person had got hold of my ID photo. I'd given it straight to Nathaniel, and despite whatever Castiel said, I doubted he would copy my photo several hundred times, spend ages defacing them all and scatter them around the school. He has much more important things to do. His _sister_, however…

Speak -or think- of the devil and he shall appear. Amber was standing on the edge of the crowd, her blue eyes bright with undisguised malice. I let the paper drop from my hand to the floor, keeping my gaze locked on to hers. "Pathetic," I commented, loud enough for her to hear. It was delightful to watch her face crumple into a scowl. It made her look a bit like a pug. And not even a cute one.

I pushed through the students, intent on getting to class. The papers were everywhere, lying all over the floor. Instead of feeling humiliated, I just felt bad for the janitor. I turned the corner, heading for Mr. Faraize's room. (I knew my way around enough by now that I didn't have to think about it too hard.) Imagine my surprise when I saw none other than Nathaniel kneeling on the floor, picking up more of the printouts. When he saw me a look of horror crossed his face.

"Ren! Ah, I wanted to pick them all up before you got here, but you're early…" He stood up, dropping a few sheets of paper in the process. They fluttered slowly to the ground in the awkward silence. "Look, I'm sorry. Someone got hold of your ID picture. I've already found it and put it back in your file. Someone stole the filing cabinet keys a couple days ago when I was sorting everything out…" He trailed off.

"Do you have the key back?" I asked.

He blinked at me. "Yes, but…aren't you upset?"

"By those?" I pointed to the pile of sheets in his arms.

"Well, yes?"

"That is probably the most juvenile prank I've ever seen. I'm surprised my locker hasn't been spray-painted. I'd expect better from a child." I looked at his anxious face and relented. "But, thanks, anyway, for picking them up. You can just leave them. I don't care if people see them."

With that, I left him in the hallway and took my usual seat in Mr. Faraize's classroom. Giggles bubbled around me, but it felt like they couldn't touch me. Today was good and idiots weren't going to spoil it. I hadn't even minded when Em had accepted a ride to school from Dajan. He was finding his niche, as was I. It looked like they were just going to be in very different places.

Mr. Faraize bustled in with all his usual fanfare, interrupting my train of thought. He glanced at me and smiled widely.

"Miss Coulter, when did you shave off that lustrous moustache?"

oOo

_Em_

Em swore colourfully. He picked up another of the defaced pictures of his sister and swore again. He hadn't been spending much time with her recently, as Dajan and the other guys from the basketball club had been taking up a lot of his free time, especially during and after school. When had she gone and made herself an enemy? His mind immediately landed on Hatchett. The man had a reason to hold a grudge _and_ access to the student files, but this would easily lead to his dismissal if he was found out. It was too petty, even for Hatchett. He gathered up more sheets as he pondered. A shadow appeared in his path. He glanced up.

_Ew…_ That was his first thought when he laid eyes on her. He could practically _see_ the many layers of make-up she had trowelled onto her face and her clothes just _screamed _designer. She had fake nails and hair that was probably fake too. He'd heard all about her. Amber Page, Nathaniel's younger sister. And an absolute cow, if rumours were to be believed. Dajan had warned him to keep an eye out, as rumour also had it that he was on her radar.

He went to go around her, but a manicured hand landed on his chest, pinning him in place. He stared down at the offending appendage, wondering if those plastic talons were going to rip right through his shirt and tear out his heart. Then, he was assaulted by a wave of perfume. He coughed slightly.

"Hey, it's Em, right?" Amber's voice was pitched low. It was probably supposed to sound seductive. Instead it sound like she had a habit of forty a day and a headcold. _Makes me miss my Nan_, he thought glibly.

"Yeah, that's right." He said flatly. "Now, if you don't mind…" He pointed to her where her hand was still pressed up against his shirt.

"Oh, but I _do _mind." Amber insinuated herself even closer to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and looking up at him with hooded eyes. "You come all this way, to this school and you don't take any notice of the best looking girl here?" She laughed. "I guess that's just some weird British thing, so I'm going to give you a second chance. You can buy me lunch for starters…"

Em disengaged her arms firmly and stepped back, putting a couple of feet between them. "From the look of it, you can afford to buy your own lunch. Or find someone else to do it. I've got more important things to deal with." He brushed past her.

"More important than me? You don't know what you're missing out on!" Amber called after him petulantly. Em snorted and kept walking. _Apart from an STD?_ He gathered up another few sheets of paper as he went, dumping the whole lot in a trashcan as he passed. There were a lot less than he'd seen earlier, so he could only guess that someone else was going around picking them up too. Speak of the devil…

At the end of the hall he spotted someone in a black jacket, stooping to pick up the remaining few scraps on the ground. When the figure straightened up he caught a flash of blood-red hair and grey eyes. _That guy from my History class?_ He paused in confusion as the redhead came towards him. He didn't say a word, just dropped the sheets he'd gathered into Em's arms and brushed past him. Em twisted half-around to watch him go.

"Hey, wait-"

"Look out for your sister, Coulter." Was the curt response he got as the other boy strode off down the hallway, his hands stuffed into his pockets. Em's brain ticked over, trying to understand how Ren could possibly know that surly rebel. She was hardly the type to chase a bad-boy.

He dumped the second lot of papers in the bin and dashed to Homeroom, wanting to corner his sister and ask just what the hell was going on. He'd taken his eyes off her for a less than a week and now her face was plastered all over the school and grumpy redheads were taking him to task about her. What the hell had she been up to?

He entered the Homeroom to see her deep in conversation with Iris, both of them whispering and laughing together. Hadn't she seen the pictures? Curious, he walked towards the back, sliding into a seat on Ren's opposite side. She barely glanced at him before slipping back into her conversation. He ignored the brief flash of hurt at her disregard and nudged her with his elbow.

"Hey, are you alright? I'm guessing you saw the…"

"The stupid pictures that Amber gave out to everyone? Yeah." She replied, her blue eyes bored. "I thought she'd have a better imagination than that. I guess all that bleach went to her head." She smiled in response to Iris's startled giggle. "How come you're late? Dajan was driving you."

"I was picking up some of those papers."

She blinked at him. "Oh, so was Nathaniel. Thanks."

He gave her an arch look. "Nathaniel and I weren't the only ones gathering them up. That redheaded guy was gathering them up to. He dumped a bunch on me." He was gratified when her eyes widened. A hint of a flush came to her white cheeks. His lips quirked up into a grin.

"Castiel was doing that?"

"Ooh…Castiel, is that his name? Your boyfriend?"

Ren's furious blush painted her face a very similar shade of red to Castiel's hair. "N-NO! Don't even insinuate that. He's a…a friend." She glanced round at Iris to see her grinning too. "Iris! You know him, you know he's not interested in me." She turned desperately to her friend for confirmation. Iris met Em's eyes.

"Well, I wouldn't be so sure about that. He actually talks to you even though he's just met you." Iris rested her chin on her fist, looking at the dark-haired girl in consideration. "He obviously thinks you're worth his time."

"You're both insane." Ren said, pretending to rifle through her bag to hide her persistent blush. Em grinned fully. It wasn't very often he got to see his sister quite so discombobulated. He left it there. There was no point teasing her mercilessly about it because she'd just clam up and ignore him which wasn't any fun at all. And if he continued, then she might start on him and Violette. It was hard sometimes, having a sneaky sister who knew all of his secrets.

Still, he was going to keep an eye on her and this Castiel guy.

oOo

_Ren_

By the time lunch rolled around the papers seem to have disappeared completely. I couldn't help but wonder how much of that was Castiel's work. _It's almost like he's trying to be…nice._ The idea was so alien that I almost laughed. Castiel didn't make nice. He just…was. If you liked him for that then fine. If you didn't then he didn't care. If he was rude to you, then you probably deserved it. The rest of the time he was just an ornery little git with a flirtatious streak and an infuriating smirk.

The whispers had died down. Only the occasional titter reached my ears as I went down the hallway. Probably because they could see I wasn't really bothered by the prank. I wondered if Amber was off in some corner with her tagalongs, plotting some new horror to befall me. Perhaps she'd put plastic spiders in my locker or something. It's a shame that I had a pet tarantula when I was a kid then, isn't it?

As I passed the door to the council room, it swung open and Nathaniel's blonde head popped out. His gold eyes caught sight of me and he sighed in relief.

"Ren. I was hoping to see you."

"How come? Did the key go missing again?" I asked dryly.

He facepalmed. "No, but I do need to ask you a small favour." He held out a slip of paper. "I see you get along with Castiel pretty well. I did advise you against talking to him, but I guess this time it works to my advantage. This is an absence slip. I need him to sign it. If I ask him, he'll just throw it in my face." He smiled imploringly at me. "Could you get him to sign it for me?"

_You lost my files and now you want me to do your job for you? _I didn't allow my annoyance to show on my face. Perhaps if I did him this small favour, he'd show more care about keeping my personal documents safe from his bitch of a sister. "Alright. I'll ask him." I took the paper.

He smiled winsomely. "Thanks. I knew I could count on you." How did he figure that? He barely knew me.

"Right." I drawled, continuing down the hall and out the doors. I'd get this out of the way quickly. _Doesn't he have delegates for this sort of thing? _Thankfully, I spotted a shock of red on one of the benches, so I wouldn't have to hunt him down over the school. I ambled over, waving briefly. "Hey."

Castiel looked up at me. "Hey, Poppins." He glanced at the slip of paper held awkwardly in my hand. "What's that?"

I sighed. "Nathaniel gave this to me. He asked me to get you to sign it." I waggled the slip slightly. "Don't know why he doesn't just ask you himself. I'm not a courier."

Castiel gave the paper a look of disgust and folded his arms across his chest. "I'm not signing that. And tell him not to send little girls to do his dirty work."

"It's just an absence note. Is it a pride thing, because you hate Nathaniel?" I asked bluntly.

Surprisingly, he didn't seem offended by my question. "If I sign that thing then he can use it to get me expelled. He's been wanting me out for years." He griped.

I glanced down at the note. On further inspection, it read. "The student agrees to three weeks of full attendance or risk expulsion by the county attendance officer." He was right. If he signed it, he'd be agreeing to those terms. "And if you don't sign it?"

"Then he can't say I broke the terms of the agreement." Castiel countered smugly. "I'm not signing it."

I glanced down at the offending paper. "Well, I'm not making you sign this. I'm not his parole officer."

Castiel's expression softened. "Thanks. I knew you'd understand."

I nodded, walking away with my heart beating a staccato in my ears. Damn him and that face of his. I marched straight back to the student council room, pushing the door open without knocking. Nathaniel glanced up from his notebooks, shooting me a questioning look.

I held out the unsigned slip for him to take. "He said no. And you didn't tell me that it would help him to get expelled. He doesn't want to sign it and I'm not going to make him." I said flatly.

Nathaniel took the slip with an agitated sigh, rolling his eyes at my words. "Remind me in future not to ask you for any favours. If I want something done, I'll do it myself!" He snapped, dropping the note onto the table. He bent over his notebooks again, apparently done paying attention to me. "Useless." He muttered that last part. His harsh tone took me aback. I blinked stupidly for a moment, then turned on my heel and left. I didn't slam the door behind me, but I certainly closed it firmly.

I hate that feeling. That hot, twitchy feeling you get when someone is angry at you, especially when it's not your fault. I don't like confrontation. And I definitely don't like being yelled at. My face was warm as I paced away down the corridor, even though I hadn't done anything wrong. My eyes were stinging. _Stupid arsehole. Do your own dirty work. _When I got outside, I found Castiel waiting for me. He took one look at my face and cursed.

"What did that bastard say to you?" He demanded.

"Don't worry about it." I pulled jerkily on my bag strap, trying to sort my feelings out. "He just learnt not to use me to get to you."

Castiel opened his mouth to speak, then hesitated. "Oi, you too much of a goody two-shoes to miss a couple classes?"

Swallowing my agitation, I answered. "What do you have in mind?"

"Do you have a problem with dogs?"

"No. I've never had one, but that's just because my dad is allergic." I tilted my head in curiosity. "You have a dog."

"Yeah. Demon. He's a Belgian Shepherd."

"So, what, you're inviting me to go walk your dog with you?"

He folded his arms. "You don't have to come if you don't want to, Poppins."

"Did I say that?" I said haughtily. "Lead on." He shot me another one of those grins, strolling over to the black Camaro I always saw parked in the corner of the lot. I'd been wondering who it belonged to. I knew jack about cars but it had the look of a classic.

"Nice car." I commented as he unlocked the driver's door. He simply smirked as he slid in behind the wheel. He leant over and threw open the passenger door.

"You getting in, Mary Poppins? Not afraid of going for a ride with me, are you?"

"Should I be?" I lowered myself into the cracked leather seat, breathing in the scent of fuel and smoke. I half expected him to light up in the car, but he didn't even reach for his cigarettes. He always smelled like smoke, but I'd never seen him actually puffing on one. Where did he smoke then? "Despite what you look like, you don't seem like an axe-murderer."

He laughed as he turned the ignition. "What gives you that idea?"

I pulled my seatbelt across and made myself comfortable. "You're upfront if you're pissed off. If people annoy you, you tell them to go away." He shrugged at my analysis. "It's people that bottle everything up that end up snapping and stabbing someone. That whole passive aggressive thing is very dangerous. Take Nathaniel for example. He'll go completely Norman Bates one day." I grinned, pleased by my own theory. "His sister is bad enough."

"Don't tell me. She's the one who made all those pictures of you." He said, as we pulled out of the parking lot. The engine purred underneath my seat. "Nice moustache, by the way."

I grabbed a lock of hair from my ponytail and draped it across my upper lip, puckering up to keep it in place. Castiel glanced at me out of the corner of his eyes and sniggered. "You're nuts." I smiled, letting the hair fall back into place. Now he'd brought up the pictures, it was the perfect time to ask about why he'd been picking them up.

But something held me back. He hadn't mentioned it himself. Did he not want me to know? If this thing between us could be called a friendship, would I be endangering it by pushing, by asking too many questions? Possibly. I kept silent, just knowing that he'd tried, in his own grouchy way, to make my day a bit easier. He might prefer people who weren't pushovers, but I guess he didn't mind helping out once in a while either.

"You'd look weird with a moustache." I blurted. He gave me a sidelong glance, pitching an eyebrow. "Just saying."

"At least I can grow one." He countered, keeping his eyes on the road. We were driving through the downtown area, heading towards his house presumably.

"Doubtful. How old are you, sixteen?"

He nodded. "What, are you older than me?"

"I'm seventeen next week."

"You're nearly a year older than me." He laughed. "I should be the one afraid of getting in the car with you. Pervert."

"I'll only drag you into a dark corner and do unspeakable things to you if you want me to." I parroted his words from earlier that week. I wasn't really paying attention to the conversation any more. The view outside the window had caught my interest. We were cruising down a street lined by tall, stately houses, with porches and pitched roofs. The car shifted suddenly, sliding into a parking space outside a large white house, with a deep, shady porch and green-painted shutters.

I realised that Castiel hadn't responded to my taunt at the very same second I felt a breath against my ear. I whipped my head around to find his face inches away from mine. I could feel my heart faltering in my chest. His grey eyes fixated on mine, the irises flickering as his gaze danced between my irises. A strand of red hair fell forward and brushed against my face.

"Is that an invitation?" He asked hoarsely.

"Uh." I couldn't form words. His breath ghosted over my face and his eyes flickered down to my lips briefly. Was he going to? _Do I want him to?_

He leant forward a fraction but then pulled back, his face splitting into a grin. I stared at him in confusion, my eyes wide as dinner plates. He sat back in his seat, laughing at me. Most of what I felt was relief, but there was frisson of disappointment too. _I bet he'd be one hell of a kisser._ Feeling quite ruffled, leant against the seat, rolling my eyes.

"You actually thought I was going to kiss you, didn't you?" He crowed.

"I'd have punched you if you did." I retorted, trying not to sound as breathless as I felt.

"Yeah, right. That's why your face is as red as my hair." He scoffed, getting out of the car. I followed. He went up the steps to the house. This was where he lived? It wasn't quite the gritty lifestyle I'd have expected him to be living. He didn't invite me in, so I hung about on the pavement, staring up at the windows. The door opened again, and Castiel appeared in the doorway, accompanied by a large brown and black dog on a lead.

As soon as Demon came near me I stuck out my hand, low down so he didn't perceive it as a threat, and let him sniff me. He didn't immediately start growling, which I took as a good sign. I didn't pet him either, though.

"He bites sometimes."

We walked aimlessly to the park, enjoying our illicit freedom and the rare sunshine. Demon began to bark and pull on the lead as soon as he smelt other dogs. Castiel wrapped the leather cord around his thin wrists and set his feet on the ground. He stumbled once against the dog's weight and I grabbed onto him without really thinking about it. I took my hands off him pretty quick, but he gave me a strange look and just took the dog off the lead, letting him bound off in the direction of a particularly interesting patch of grass.

We walked round, keeping an eye on the dog. We didn't really speak. There was no need. And if I kept glancing out of the corner of my eye, then that's understandable. Castiel was an unknown quantity in my life. Alternately mocking, playful, grumpy or contemplative, his moods changing like quicksilver. An apt description of his eyes too. Trying to make sense of his behaviour gave me a headache. He was…just Castiel, I guess. Trying to make him fit into a niche was impossible. The only thing I was sure of was that he probably didn't think of me as other than an amusing distraction.

Even so, I was disappointed when he drove me home.

Oh, help.

oOo

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed. Update next Wednesday.**


	8. Allegro

**A/N: My deepest apologies. I must protest that I've been having something of a family crisis these last few weeks. It hasn't been very productive, writing-wise. Here you are:**

oOo

**Embers**

**Act the Eighth - Allegro**

oOo

_Ren_

Short, sharp notes rose from the violin, closely followed by grand sweeps of music that had my arm sawing back and forth across the strings, wringing music out of the construction of wood and metal. I was in my element, playing on the instrument I'd had so long it was like an old friend. We went well together and I knew its tricks and quirks enough to play it with ease. Another violin and I'd probably be fumbling and squeaking all over the place. I closed my eyes briefly, feeling only the smooth wood and thin strings under my fingers and the cool breeze that came through the open window. I felt my lips stretch into a smile, then a grimace as I brought the piece to an end.

The last strains of Vivaldi's "Spring Allegro" faded away. I let my arms drop, exhausted. I blew my sweaty bangs out of my eyes and rolled my neck a couple of times to ease the crick. How some people practised for hours with their heads tilted at such an awkward angle I'd never know. I laid my violin and bow on the stand and left the room, intending to hunt down my wayward brother.

The sound of him cursing against a backdrop of gunshots lured me to the living room. He was sitting on the very edge of the couch, his blue eyes glaring at the screen as his hands moved frantically across the Xbox controller. He didn't notice me walk in. I let him go on with his vendetta against CGI soldiers and collected my bag from where I had dumped it behind the couch last night.

Last night.

I grinned to myself at the memory of Castiel smirking at me from his car as I walked up the path to the complex. He was difficult to get along with, but when you got it right, as I seemed to be doing, there was no-one else like him. He was an interesting choice in friend, considering I would have avoided a guy like that like the plague back home. A volatile bad boy with a permanent smirk and an attitude problem. Despite all that, I found myself liking him. No, not _liking him _liking him. Just as a friend. No rebel punk was getting within ten miles of my heart, especially not one who couldn't even be bothered to use my name. I immediately banished the montage of smirks my mind was trying to produce and slung my bag over my shoulder. No way in hell would I ever fall for Castiel Braxton.

I patted Em on the head as I walked out, ignoring his indignant yelp as I distracted him and let a CGI enemy escape. I felt no guilt. Those pixel dudes need a lucky break sometimes too.

The weather outside was surprisingly mild in comparison to the previous week. The sky was clear and blue but not enough to send me running for shade. A light breeze flirted with the hem of my coat as I walked along. Te Cambridge Music Store was on the far east side of town, according to the Google map Mrs Fagan had printed off. She'd all but insisted that I was to visit as soon as possible and speak to the much exalted Tobias about taking up violin lessons again. She'd reminded me about it every single music class and whenever she passed me in the hallway _and_ she'd slipped the map and detailed directions in my homework packet.

I pulled the crumpled sheet out of my pocket and smoothed it out. Fagan's scrawl was illegible so I instead followed the lines of the map. Many treks 'round the winding streets of London had prepared me for the journey. I looked the map over again and stuffed it back into my pocket. Right, then left, then there it was, sprawling along what must have been half a block. I had no idea that Sweet Amoris had such a good live-music scene that it needed such a huge music store. I stared enviously at the shiny instruments in the window. _Stop it, _I chastised myself. _You can only play violin and piano so half of these are completely useless to you._ I already had a violin and the most I was willing to buy were new strings or wood polish.

I pushed open the door, making a small bell jingle somewhere in the back. Rows of guitars decorated the walls, whilst drum kits, keyboards and pianos sat in the middle of the floor like islands. Appropriate to that metaphor, the carpet was a deep royal blue. I wiped my feet self-consciously on the welcome mat. As I was still taking everything in, a figure appeared at the glass and chrome counter.

Dressed in jeans and a faded green t-shirt he leant both hands on the counter and beamed at me from the other end of the store. I could feel the radiance of it from where I stood in the doorway. I let go of the door handle and it closed behind me without a sound. Standing there awkwardly, afraid to move or touch anything, I knew I was making a horrible first impression. I was about to turn back to the door when he hailed me.

"Hey! Anything I can help you with?"

I stared at him and his blinding white teeth. He was so _eager_. Any cashier in an English shop would be begging and praying for you to turn around and leave so that they could have a cigarette and go back to gossiping about what was on telly last night. And if they _did_ have to serve you, you sure as hell wouldn't be getting their full attention like I was. I opened my mouth to respond but apparently that wasn't necessary either.

"I'm Tobias, what's your name?"

Well, there was nothing for it now. I went over to the counter, resisting the urge to shield my eyes against his brilliance. Everything about him was…shiny. Not sweaty shiny, _clean_ shiny. Shiny golden hair, shiny teeth, shiny eyes and shinier glasses perched rakishly on the top of his head. Despite the risk of retinal damage, Tobias wasn't bad looking. His eyes were an unexpected shade of jade green, set against tanned skin and sun-streaked hair - a creature utterly unlike what I was used to back home. He leant his elbows on the counter and toned down the mega-watt smile. I decided he looked more attractive that way.

"It's Ren." I gave my name reluctantly and waited for the barrage of questions that usually accompanied my first words. Nothing came.

Instead, he just nodded. "Cool name. What can I help you with?"

Surprised, I blurted. "Oh, Mrs Fagan from the high school told me to come to you."

His eyebrows rose. "Really? Me personally, or just the store?"

"You personally. I play the violin-"

He cut me off, standing up and looking at me with renewed interest. "Grade?" He asked as he came around the counter. He stepped past me and made for a flight of stairs in the corner.

"S-seven." I replied, hurrying after him. He was much taller than I'd expected, easily passing six foot. I darted after him, only to freeze when he rounded on me.

"Seven? Really?" He looked me up and down properly for the first time. "Good thing she sent you to me then." He turned and carried on up the stairs. I followed him, my interest now piqued. He'd gone from being an over eager shop-worker to a giant (he must have been 6"4) who asked rapid questions and spoke in riddles. My spirits lifted. An eccentric musician!

"Why is that?" I asked, puzzled by his last remark.

A chuckle floated down the stairs. "Because she isn't equipped to handle anything above a Grade Four." He said it without malice, but there was hint of smugness to his voice.

I stepped off the top stair into a converted loft, filled with yet more instruments. These ones lacked the gleam of the ones downstairs, however. They were probably used for teaching. He was looming over a selection of violin cases, unlocking them and pulling the instruments out into the light. He rejected three and turned to me with the fourth. He held it out to me imperiously. I took them gingerly. He placed his hands on his thin hips.

"Vivaldi's 'Spring' in allegro." He commanded.

Startled, I lifted the violin to my shoulder. One more glance at his determined eyes, now half-hidden behind his glasses and I began to play.

oOo

_Castiel_

Monday morning found him half-asleep in his Biology class. He stared blearily at the board, wondering when anything Mr. Faraize said would become interesting. _Never. That's when. _For once, not even his own cynicism could amuse him. He glanced at the clock and found that his gaze stuck there, watching the torturously slow progression of the second hand. It almost seemed as if time were crawling backwards. The clock was irrefutable proof that this wasn't the case but it sure as hell _felt_ like it.

Castiel dragged a hand through his hair and yawned hugely, ignoring the eye-rolling of that stupid kid two desks over. Mr. Faraize paused with his hand in the air and looked in Castiel's direction.

"If you stopped staying up late to watch _Sex and the City_, Mr. Braxton, you wouldn't be so tired for my classes."

The class dissolved into titters. Castiel sat up a little straighter, a smirk pulling at his lips. "It's _Desperate Housewives_, teach. You should know that."

More laughter followed his comeback. Faraize chuckled briefly and turned back to his lecture. Castiel turned his gaze back to the clock. He didn't feel a lick of guilt about not paying attention. All of this stuff would be on the homework packet anyway. In fact, Mr. Faraize was probably quoting it word for word. He glared at the clock, willing the thin second dial to spin faster so that he could get out earlier. He needed to get (i out), do (i something). He wasn't made for sitting in class and paying attention. He was a man of action, or something. He could imagine Lysander's stifled laughter if he was ever stupid enough to say that out loud.

Lysander. He'd find his silver-haired friend and propose a jam after school. Or he'd find Poppins. She was always fun to tease. He paused, wondering how annoyed she would be to discover that he even thought of her with that nickname. Probably a lot, he grinned to himself.

He leant back in his seat, folding his arms across his chest, making his leather jacket creak. She amused him, the way she couldn't seem to form a solid opinion of him. Did he piss her off or make her laugh? He provoked her half the time just to see what kind of reaction he would get out of her. The rest of the time it was from boredom. And, he had to admit, he was sort of impressed with the way she'd handled Amber's prank. The Ant Queen hadn't tried anything else yet, but it was coming and he was interested to see how Poppins would handle that. She was…weird. Obviously shy and awkward but quick to fend off verbal jabs and obviously unaffected by Amber's intimidation tactics.

He did wonder, only when he was bored -like now-, how much of that was false. How much did she pretend to get people to leave her alone? He chewed his thumbnail, ignoring another disgusted look from two-desks-over-kid. Whatever it was, it hadn't worked with him. She was too interesting.

oOo

_Ren_

The moment Iris and I reached the door to the music room, it was thrown open wide and Mrs. Fagan filled the doorway with her manic glory. She stared down at me, excitement practically stamped all over her face. Her hand reached out for my shoulder.

"Did you go? Did you see him? Tobias?" As if she needed to say his name. I'd known what she was going to ask the second I stepped into the school. It had occurred to me during my meeting with Tobias that Mrs. Fagan had a raging crush on him, almost to the point where she would be willing to leave her husband for one night of passion with the violin teacher.

And a teacher he was! The overeager clerk facade was just a sham, a gambit to keep the good customers coming back and make any potential shoplifters feel so uncomfortable they would blurt an excuse and leave. He dropped the act as soon as he fell into teacher mode. As a teacher he was methodical, driven and bloody bossy. He'd made me run through practically my entire repertoire, from that infernal allegro to the "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" crap I'd learnt as a kid. Only when I felt sweat dripping down by back, my shoulder was practically locked up and my fingers felt worn down to the bone was he happy.

I'd sat on a piano stool, rubbing my neck, whilst he'd paced back and forth, thinking. Eventually he stopped in front of me and nodded decisively. "I'll accept you as a student." His eyes glinted behind his glasses. "But, you're going to have to develop some more stamina than that."

"Stamina?" I panted. "I just played for three hours straight!" He expected me to do _more_?

"Two and a half." He corrected. "And you need to work on your posture hold yourself too stiffly while you play. No doubt your left shoulder has stiffened up?" He smirked at me.

I stopped rubbing my neck. "Anything else?" I asked bitterly.

"Yes. See you next Saturday. 11 a.m." He didn't ask if it was convenient for me, nor did he tell me what I had to practice. He just smiled and said, "impress me."

I didn't tell any of this to Mrs. Fagan, sensing that I would be interrogated if I let anything slip. She'd want to know what he was wearing, had he said anything about her, was he pleased that she'd sent him a new student, blah, blah, blah. Instead, I just smiled at her and said, "He said he'd take me on as a student." She clapped her hands in delight and opened her mouth to fire questions at me but I was already dragging Iris to the back of the classroom, talking loudly about what I planned to eat for lunch. Iris just laughed and allowed me to tug her along by her stripy sleeve.

We settled at a desk at the back of the room, whilst Mrs. Fagan wiped down the board with a definite air of petulance. Iris toyed with her auburn braid and shot me a considering look. She been giving me those since Friday morning's homeroom. I knew what the subject would be before she even opened her mouth.

"What's going on between you and Castiel?" She leant her arm on the table and propped her chin on that, her green eyes inquisitive. "You both vanished Friday afternoon." The hint of a smile on her lips flustered me. What was she implying?

"Oh, that?" I shrugged. "I was in a crap mood, so we took his dog for a walk. Well, his dog took _us_ for a walk." I ammended. There I was, being all casual, but she was having none of it.

"So, he notices that you're in a bad mood and goes out of his way to distract you?" She asked.

"We took his dog for a walk. It waas hardly a trip to Paris." I protested.

"How did you get to his house to get Demon?" Huh? When had I mentioned the dog's name? Perhaps she knew Castiel better than I thought.

"Oh, he drove." I answered.

"He drove you to his house? Did he drive you home?" That hint of a smile was becoming less of a hint, more of an actual smile.

"Yeah, I said I could walk but he started being stubborn. Said I would probably get lost or something." I shrugged at the memory. He'd been leaning against the side of his car, sneering at me. His actual words had been: _"Nah, I'd better take you home or you'll get hit by a bus, knowing you."_

She gaped at me, her eyes full of laughter. "So...he picks up those photos of you, takes you somewhere to cheer you up, shows concern for your wellbeing and insists on driving you home?" She repeated in disbelief.

"Yeah, and acts like a snarky git the whole time." I retorted.

"What's a git?" Iris asked, puzzled.

"A prat. A douchebag."

"Well, anyway. All signs point to one thing!" What was she? A mystic 8-ball?

"That he finds my humiliation incredibly entertaining?"

"No!" Iris laughed. "I think he likes you."

"_Likes _me?"

"Um, yeah."

"Please tell me that you mean as a friend."

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"Stop being cryptic." I complained.

"Sorry." She chuckled. "With him it's hard to tell."

"Telll me about it." I said sourly.

"So..." She trailed off.

I eyed her. "What?"

"Do you like _him_?"

"Yeah. I'm madly in love with him." I said flatly.

"What?!"

"Just kidding. He's...okay."

Iris laughed nervous and cut me an exasperated look. "You and your deadpan face. That accent makes it harder to tell when you're joking." I shrugged. I spoke the way I spoke. Nothing was about to change that. The classroom was filling up rapidly and Mrs. Fagan was writing something on the board with agitated squeaks of her Dry-Wipe pen. I glanced over at it and felt blood draining from my head.

**Group Project: Composition!**

Even worse, she was drawing hearts and sparkles around her twirly writing. I sighed and nudged Iris. She followed the path of my pointing finger, read the notice and glanced back at me, a smile breaking out over her face.

"Hey, that sounds fun!"

"Seriously?" I griped. "She's probably going to make us get into groups and assign everyone a genre-"

"Now, everyone!" The teacher clapped her hands, the crack catching everyone's attention. "I want you to get into groups of three of four. I'll hand everyone a genre and then we'll discuss!"

I showed Iris my look of disgust. She smothered a laugh behind her sleeve.

oOo

I groaned and buried my head in my arms. The students around us continued their muttered conversations with each other, wary of drawing the gimlet eye of the haggard librarian. The woman was so old her wrinkles had wrinkled and there was a constant reek of decay around her. Needless to say, most students avoided her and her raspy voice like the plague. Iris cocked an eyebrow at my supposed despair.

"I don't see what's so terrible." She said, bemused. "It's just a group project. It's not like we're going to have to perform it in front of the whole school, just our class. And you're not even the one who has to sing. That honour went to Melody." She rested her chin on her upturned palm, smiling at me. "You're just playing the piano."

"It doesn't matter what it is." I grumbled. "I don't like performing in public. All of it feels as embarrassing as if I've been asked to strip naked and dance an Irish jig."

"I'd pay to see that." Interrupted a voice that definitely wasn't Iris's. I glanced up, feeling my face flaming once again in his presence. I hadn't seen him since Friday afternoon. Despite being only two days, the absence seemed keen. He was a presence that took a long time to get used to, but when it was gone, you missed it. I found myself smiling somewhat foolishly at him.

"You couldn't afford the amount it would take me to do that." I said.

His eyebrows rose slightly. "Whatever, Mary Poppins. I've got someone I want you to meet."

"Who?" I asked, suspicious.

"Come with me and find out." He smirked.

I glanced at Iris, mostly so that I wouldn't have to watch the way his eyes darkened slightly every time his lips shifted upwards. Part of me wondered what it would take to get an honest-to-God, real smile out of him. Probably a miracle. "Iris, do you mind if I...?"

"Not at all. Melody's meeting me here in five minutes."

"Good." Castiel didn't wait for me. He just grabbed my wrist and tugged me out the library after him. I tried to shake my arm from his grasp, but he didn't seem to notice. I stopped in my tracks, forcing him to stop too. He turned back to look at me with a slightly annoyed expression on his face. "What?"

I lifted my wrist where his hand still held it. "I'm not a dog or a child. I can follow without you dragging me." I said tersely.

Big mistake. His eyes flickered between my wrist and then my face. They glittered. He dropped my arm and I thought that was the last of it. Instead, he fell into step beside me. I started forward, thinking to escape whatever he was playing at, but was instead caught by his arm looping snugly around my waist.

"Is this better, Poppins?" He leered down at me.

I almost gulped. The warmth of his body burned through my clothes, all up my side and down around my waist where his arm hooked me in like some hapless fish. And he was way, way too close. I gaped at him as my face slowly turned a shade of red that I could feel burning away my skin. Castiel carried on walking, bringing me with him in the crook of his arm.

"What are you playing at, Braxton?" I hissed, uncomfortably aware of the stares we were getting.

"Playing? Who says I'm playing?" He chuckled in my ear. My temperature shot up several degrees. I slapped him on the arm and tried to pull away. He reeled me back in, his hand landing on my hip.

"Stop it, Castiel." I demanded, wriggling away from him.

He held up his hands. "Fine, fine." Then he grabbed my wrist again and started striding off with me in tow. Damn him!

I could practically _feel_ the smirk radiating off of him as we left the building and went out to the courtyard. Only once the fresh air buffeted us did he release my hand. I rubbed the joint morosely, even though he hadn't been holding tight enough to hurt. He raised an eyebrow at me. I scowled back.

"You're an arsehole." I told him sternly.

"You're whiny." He shrugged.

I snorted and jabbed him in the ribs with my elbow. "Right. Where are we going? Who am I meeting?" I asked curiously.

He rubbed the spot I'd poked absently, nodding in the direction of one of the benches in the distance. From our spot at the top of the steps, I could just about see an elegantly dressed figure topped by a mop of pale hair. It seemed to be looking in our direction, quite intently. "Who is that?" Wasn't he same guy I'd seen Castiel talking to that first day, on my way to get Em out of detention? Intrigue bubbled inside me. I squinted my eyes, trying to get a better look.

"That's Lysander." Castiel confirmed, beckoning me after him as he crossed the courtyard with his long, loping strides. As we got closer, the slightly blurry figure materialised into a tall, slim young man dressed full Victorian regalia. He even had a teal cravat and polished boots. As strange as the outfit seemed in a modern school, it suited him. As did the asymmetric silver hair, streaked with black and the mismatched green and gold eyes.

Those eyes focused on me as I approached. I stared at him, wondering if he'd come striding out of one of my books. He was like some hero from a steampunk novel, come swooping in to save the heroine at the last minute from the evil automatons. _Woah. Imagination running away with me..._

Castiel threw himself down on the bench Lysander, leaving me standing awkwardly in front of them. Lysander glanced between the two of us, a faintly puzzled expression crossing his face for a moment. "Cas? Are you going to introduce us?" He nudged the lanky boy in the ribs.

Castiel blinked. "Huh? Oh, right. Lys, this is Mary Poppins. Poppins, this is Lysander." He grinned, satisfied with himself, and crossed his arms behind his head. I glared at him but he smirked back. _Git_.

"It's Ren. Nice to meet you. He." I pointed to the infuriating redhead. "Doesn't seem to grasp the fact, so he's come up with a nickname that his oxygen-starved brain can remember." Castiel blinked and then chuckled at my attempted insult. The smoky sound made the hairs on the back of my neck rise. I turned my attention to Lysander. He smiled at me. _Hmm...gorgeous..._my subconscious purred.

"A pleasure, Ren. Please take a seat." He gestured to his other side. I took it, keeping about a foot between us. Castiel stared up at the clouds, apparently uninterested, but when I glanced at him, his grey eyes flashed towards mine for a moment. "How did you meet Castiel?"

Before I had a chance to answer, Castiel jumped in. "She was choking on her own hair." He snickered.

Lysander blinked a couple of times, processing that particular piece of information. "I guess that's one way to meet..."

Feeling hot with indignation, I protested. "It was windy, and some blew into my mouth. Red here just stood and laughed himself silly." I gave him a dismissive flap of my hand. He straightened up and looked at me across Lysander, a curious twist to his mouth.

"So, uh, how do you know Castiel?" I asked Lysander, tearing my eyes away from the fixed gaze of the redhead.

"Hmm?" He tilted his head slightly. "I've known him for a while. We're in a band together." _What?_

I straightened up, interest making me more attentive. "Oh? What do you guys play?" I had no idea that the bratty redhead played an instrument.

"I'm the vocalist and Cas is the guitarist. He's pretty talented too." Lys glanced at his friend, who rolled his eyes and stared off in another direction, as though bored with the conversation. He wasn't though, if the way he kept an ear tilted towards us was any consideration.

"Oh, is he?" I said playfully. Castiel rolled his head around to raise an eyebrow at me. I smiled at him. He looked away again.

"Probably the best I've met." Lysander said honestly, apparently unaware of the undercurrent to the conversation. "I hear from Iris that you play too."

My eyes widened as the conversation shifted to me. Just how many people did Iris know? I shrugged slightly. "I do." And damn it all, was Castiel looking at me again? I checked. He was, and there was a spark of interest in those eyes too. "Violin. Piano. Nothing exciting. My parents thought it would be fun to have a musical brat."

"And what about your brother?" Lysander asked.

"Science brat." I confirmed. "It's not going to be a career choice for me though. I have no ambitions to play St. Albert's Hall."

"What do you want to do then?" I glanced at Castiel in surprise. It was the first time he'd spoken in a good ten minutes.

"I want to be a writer." I said without thinking.

He snorted. "And there I was, thinking you were sensible, Mary Poppins."

I clenched my fist and glared at him. How dare he? "Oh, and wanting to be a musician is any more sensible?" I said hotly, embarrassed at his accusation.

He looked at me for a long moment, then grinned. "I never said it was a bad thing, Poppins."

oOo

**A/N: Well, I hope that was alright. It took me ages to write. I like the dynamic between Castiel and Ren. A warning though...this story will not be plain sailing for either of them. Not by a long shot. There's a storm coming.**


	9. Heartbreaker

**A/N: As some of you might have read in my author's note, I've been dealing with the serious illness of a friend. Good news is he is having surgery soon, so fingers crossed. Here's what you've been waiting for:**

**oOo**

**Embers**

**Act the Ninth - Heartbreaker**

**oOo**

_Ren_

Bright light shattered over my eyelids. I flung an arm over my face as Em's cheerful whistle filled the room. Something sharp was digging into my ribcage. I felt around underneath me and found the tv remote from where I'd fallen asleep the night before. As soon as my fingers clasped around it, I whipped out my arm and threw it in his general direction. There was a thud but no scream of pain, merely a chuckle. Had the bastard caught it? I opened my eyes to check and immediately regretted it. My eyes stung and I could practically _feel_ my pupils retracting into pinpricks. _This must be what it feels like to be hungover. _Groaning, I shifted up on the sofa so Em could sit his fat ass down.

"You didn't even make it to bed last night." It wasn't a question. I rolled my stiff neck didn't bother to answer him. Netflix was going to be the end of me at this rate. The episodes just kept streaming and streaming and- "How many episodes of Sherlock did you watch?" He asked dryly, switching off the static buzz of the television with a pointed gesture.

"Seven." I muttered, surreptitiously wiping at a damp patch on my cheek.

"Drooling over Benedict Cumberbatch, were we?" Em sniggered. I slapped hi s arm and groped for my phone in the sofa cushions. As soon as the silvery block was in my palm, it hit me what date it was.

"It's our birthday, isn't it." I asked stupidly, rubbing at my still smarting eyes. I glanced at the screen of my cell. No missed calls. My fingers tightened slightly on the device. "Did Mum and Dad call?"

Em shifted, looking determinedly out of the window. He didn't answer me. "Em, did they call yet?" I pressed.

"They called earlier." He said uncomfortably. "You know, the time difference and all that."

I dropped the phone onto the couch so I didn't crush it in my fist. "Why didn't you wake me up?" I asked tightly.

He shot me a guilty look. "Well…when I told Mum you were sleeping, she told me not to wake you."

"Did they say if they were going to call back later?" He winced at the ice in my voice.

His hands clasped each other tightly in his lap, his head drooping forward so his hair hid his expression from me. "Dad said they were going to be a conference all day."

"Oh." I stood up and left, not wanting him to see the way my face was screwing up. I went to the kitchen with the vague idea of making breakfast. I couldn't help slamming the cupboard doors and thumping my plate down on the counter. It was the first time they'd called since our arrival two weeks ago and it was my seventeenth birthday. And neither of them could be bothered to speak to me? I cracked an egg with a little too much force. Yolk slithered down my wrist. I thrust it under the cold tap and rinsed it off, wanting the cold to numb the rest of me along with my arm.

The front door opened. Chrissy came swanning in with her arms full of brown paper bags, her hair coiled up in a chignon. The elegant effect was ruined by the massive felt sunflower she'd pinned into her red hair. Although she'd left off with the fairy costumes for once. I shut off the tap and leaned against the sink, watching her unloading the bags on the centre island; croissants, orange juice, jam , strawberries and blueberries, tea and coffee, cream and more. As the breakfast feast piled up I felt my appetite flee.

"Good morning, darlings! Happy Birthday!" She beamed at us. "So, have you heard from your parents yet?" I scowled and turned away from her. _Way to rub it in_, I thought sourly, making a show of dumping my unused plate in the sink and scrubbing it. I could feel Em staring at my back as he answered.

"Yeah. They called earlier. They're kind of busy today." He said.

Chrissy sniffed disapprovingly. "You'd think they would have called a bit sooner to see how you were getting on." She started dishing croissants and blueberries onto plates. "Well, my sister has always been a bit away with the fairies when it comes to her job." I heard the grunt of Em stifling his laughter. Chrissy could talk! "And your father is a wet blanket." She added. There was a pause as I felt the stares on my back increase. "Ren are you alright there?" She sounded a bit alarmed at the ferocity with which I was cleaning Em's coffee cup.

"Oh, fine!" I answered breezily, forcing myself to relinquish the sponge and turn to face them with a smile on my face. Breaking dishes wasn't going to make me feel any better. Well, it probably would, but then I'd have to explain why I was doing it. And as petulant as I felt, I didn't really feel like telling everyone I was upset because Mummy and Daddy didn't call me on my birthday. Or rather, they _had_ called but they just didn't want to talk to me in particular. Better to pretend I didn't care. Em cleared his throat loudly and announced that he was starving.

Chrissy turned her blue-eyed stare back towards him and I rinsed off the dishes I'd scrubbed. The awkward moment passed and I painted my face with a less fake smile. It must have passed muster because as soon as I dried my hands Chrissy was thrusting a breakfast-laden plate into them. She chattered on blithely about how much we had grown up and how she had a surprise waiting for us at her house after school…

I tuned her out.

Shredding a croissant between my fingers, I stared blankly out of the window, wondering how soon I could get away from the table. I was just about to make my excuses when Chrissy's words caught my attention again.

"…and any of your new friends you want to bring along are welcome too. Just send me a message to tell me how many to cook for. How are you two doing at that school anyway? Got many friends yet?" She asked with the optimistic bias of a doting auntie.

"Em's a regular prince of the student body."

He flushed and glanced at me with annoyance. "I have some friends on the basketball team." He allowed.

"And Violette." I reminded him sweetly.

He turned redder, causing Chrissy to cackle. "A girlfriend already, Emmanuel?"

"Violette isn't my girlfriend." He insisted.

"Yet." I cut in. Em opened his mouth to retort but Chrissy cut him off.

"Make sure to invite her this evening then. She's not a vegetarian, is she? I was planning to make roasted beef with…"

"Are you going to invite Castiel?" Em asked, a bit prissily, if you ask me. The question stopped me in my tracks. I paused with a shred of croissant halfway to my mouth. Invite Castiel? In all honesty, the idea hadn't even occurred to me. The thought of him sitting down to dinner in Chrissy's house was so incongruous that I nearly burst out laughing. I could imagine him scowling as he was interrogated by Chrissy and smirking incessantly whenever he thought it would piss me off. And God forbid if Chrissy showed up in another costume.

"Who is Castiel?" Aunt Chrissy's voice was far too interested. I shrank down in my seat, hoping to avoid her notice. "A boy?" Interest? No, she was like a bloodhound with a scent.

"He's just a friend." I said flatly, hoping to discourage her. No chance.

"Ren, do you have a boyfriend?"

"No." I scowled at both of them. If word of this got out and Castiel heard…He'd never let me hear the end of it. "I barely know him and he's a jerk half of the time, anyway."

"A bad boy?" Chrissy laughed.

"He wishes." I muttered.

oOo

_Castiel_

Something wet and rough dragged across his face. He grunted and twitched in his sleep, trying to swat away whatever intruded into his dreams. Another lick against his chin made his eyes pop open. He found himself face to face with a long brown snout and beady black eyes. Demon licked his face again, wagging his tail. Castiel lifted a hand to scratch behind the dog's ears. He was rewarded with another swipe of dripping tongue for his efforts. With a resigned huff he pushed the dog's snout away and sat up. Pulling on the sleeve of his faded black shirt he wiped the remnants of drool off his face – Demon's, not his. He flicked a wary glance at the alarm-clock on his bedside table. "07:33" flashed at him in red letters. He sighed and dropped back into his tangled sheets, throwing an arm up above his head. Demon took this as his cue to jump up on the bed. The mattress springs groaned as the large mutt settled down next to his master.

"I'll feed you in a minute." He mumbled, scratching at his stomach.

He stared up at his white ceiling, looking for patterns in the stucco as usual. There, a lion. Here, a dog. Demon's tail thumped against his thigh. Castiel sighed and kicked off the blankets to swing his leg down to the floor. As soon as his feet hit the carpet Demon was off the bed and bounding down the stairs, anticipating food. The redhead followed, hitching his plaid pajama pants up over his hips as he went. Sunlight slanted through the kitchen windows. He winced as his feet hit the cold tiles. The dog was already by the cupboard under the sink, waiting eagerly for his owner to feed him.

"Yeah, alright." Castiel yawned wide, showing his molars to the empty kitchen. He opened the low cupboard and pulled out the box of dry dog biscuits. He shook it slightly. Almost empty. "Gonna have to get you some more." He told the dog, pouring the last of the packet into the plastic red bowl. Demon attacked his breakfast like he was a starved mongrel. He was hardly that. Castiel always remembered to feed the dog, even if he forgot to feed himself sometimes. Speaking of.

He straightened up and opened the fridge. Inside was a half-empty carton of milk and a tomato. _When the fuck did I buy tomatoes?_ He sniffed at the milk and flinched back. He dumped the whole thing in the bin and stared back into the empty white cave of the refrigerator. "I don't even like tomatoes." He told the dog, who wasn't really paying any attention. He'd have to stop by the diner on the way to school and pick something up. And go grocery shopping after school. He hated that, but if his parents came home to an empty fridge on Saturday, he'd never hear the end of it. The phone rang.

Castiel glanced at it as though it was a snake about to bite him. Only one person ever rang the landline. Reluctantly, he padded into the hall and stared at the screaming device. Grimly, he picked up the phone and lifted it to his ear.

"Yeah?"

"Hello, sweetie." Mom's voice floated into his ear, tinny and distant.

"Hey, Mom."

"Listen, sweetie…something's come up…"

Castiel's fist clenched by his thigh. "Really."

"Honey…we were really looking forward to coming home tomorrow, but this is a flight we really can't pass up. The benefits are-"

"You're not coming." It wasn't a question.

"I'm sorry, Cas." She really did sound sorry, but it didn't change anything.

"Whatever. Have fun." He dropped the phone back into the cradle and glared at it for a full minute. Then he turned and slammed a fist into the wall. Dust rained down around his hand. He pulled his arm back. The knuckles were skinned. A bead of blood welled and trickled down his palm.

"Shit."

Clutching his fist with his uninjured hand, he stumbled back into the kitchen, no longer caring about the empty fridge. Demon glanced up from his bowl and whined. Castiel ignored him in favour of letting cold water from the tap run over his bleeding knuckles. He stared at the stream of water and fought the urge to punch something again. It wouldn't do him any good. He'd just end up with bruises on his hand. It wouldn't make his parents come home to see him.

He wasn't hungry any more.

oOo

_Ren_

_Where is he?_ The bench was hard and cold underneath my butt. I hunched forward against the cold. It was a miserable day but I just pulled my coat tighter around my body and stuck it out. This was the most likely place to find him on any day of the week. I hadn't seen Castiel all morning. It wasn't that unusual, but I was looking forward to seeing him. Especially if he didn't act like an arsehole for once.

Em's question from this morning was still niggling at me. Should I ask him over for Chrissy's dinner? Would he scoff at the invitation? Maybe it was too much of an assumption. Despite his random bouts of overfamiliarity –the arm round the waist incident- there was still distance between us. He was so damn difficult to talk to that it felt as though I'd never get past it. And I wanted to get past it.

_Damn him._ The thought was fond, rather than exasperated. _Crap_. _That_ thought was exasperated.

Something wet landed on my nose. I glanced up in time to feel six more splatters dotted across my face. Grey clouds congregated in the sky, just waiting to pelt us all with cold rain and glum moods for the rest of the day. I wasn't self-obsessed enough to whine that my birthday must be full of sunshine and rainbows, but the fact it had to rain was kind of a downer. Still, this was the most likely place to find Red, even if it was pouring down.

I pulled my feet up onto the bench and pulled my dress down over my knees. Then I folded my arms over the top of my legs and waited.

And waited.

Lunch crept by slowly. The spitting rain soon turned into a proper downpour but I stuck it out like some sort of idiot. One or two students ran through the courtyard on their way to the gymnasium and other places. They gave me incredulous looks as they ran past but no-one stopped to ask me what the hell I was doing. After what felt like hours and when I was soaked through to the bone, I finally spotted a mop of red hair in the distance.

I lifted one soggy arm and waved for him to come over.

Castiel slouched over to the bench, his hair plastered against his pale face. His expression was unusually flat, lacking even the patented smirk. I didn't give myself time to wonder what was wrong. I only had one reserve of guts and if I blew it, I'd regret it.

"Hey, do you want to come to my aunt's house for dinner? It's-" I blurted it all out in a rush.

"No." He cut me off bluntly. "I don't want to go to some stupid family thing with your crazy aunt." He scoffed at me, folding his arms across his Winged Skull shirt. "What gave you such a stupid idea?" I was still standing there open-mouthed when he turned and walked away, sloshing through the puddles and disappearing into the school.

Disappointment hit me like a ton of bricks. I hadn't even realised how much I'd wanted him to come. And now I felt like a moron for even thinking of asking him. Well, that was that. He wasn't coming.

_Shouldn't have even bothered. Arsehole._I was fuming. _I can't believe I waited in the rain for nearly an hour to ask him! I should have just ate lunch with Iris like she asked. _That was a lesson learned. Never let boys come before friends. _Hold on, I thought Castiel was a friend. _Just _a friend. No, nevermind. Don't let idiot redheads ruin your birthday just because he's on his man-period or something._

The thought made me laugh and lifted the metaphorical black cloud, if not the physical ones.

OOo

"Now, everybody don't wait on ceremony, just dig in." Chrissy announced cheerfully as she set a plate groaning with roast beef on the already over-laden table. She'd gone all out. There were artfully arranged salads, soft, fresh rolls from the bakery, creamy butter, savoury gravy and mounds of roast potatoes and seasoned vegetables. It was like the Sunday roasts we'd had back home when I was younger. "Em, don't have so many potatoes, sweetie, or you'll have no room for cake."

Em glanced longingly at the little yellow mountain on his plate. He sighed and placed four back, leaving three. "It's my birthday..." He muttered, a little petulantly.

"That doesn't mean you can have all the potatoes, you starchy bastard." I added cheerfully, watching Violette trying to hide her smile behind her napkin.

She sat next to Em at the table, delicately lifting morsels of food to her mouth, always nervously aware of my brother's presence next to her. I'd been delighted when I found out he'd invited her, rather than his rowdy basketball mates. I'd taken the same tack and brought Iris along with me. True, I'd felt a bit guilty about asking her only after Castiel had shot me down, but if I didn't tell her then it couldn't hurt her feelings.

Iris stared at the spread of food with widening eyes. I smiled at her and grabbed some tongs to start putting food on her plate, since she'd made no move to do so herself. Chrissy watched the whole affair with a pleased expression and everything seemed set to proceed peacefully. Then she opened her mouth.

"You two really do make such a sweet couple."

Four heads whipped in her direction. It took a moment for us all to realise she meant Emmanuel and Violette. They glanced at each other and then away, flushed.

"W-we, um, Emmanuel and I, um..."

"We're not a couple, Chrissy." Em said firmly.

"Oh, but you must be! You look so cute together!" Chrissy actually seemed upset.

"You can't force people to be together just because they look good standing next to each other." I replied.

"I know that, Ren." She said tartly. "I'm just saying it's a shame that they aren't." She turned her sharp blue eyes on me. "And what about you? Have you broken any hearts yet?" Her smile was menacing.

"No." I replied flatly.

"You do spend a lot of time with that Castiel guy, though." Em observed, keen to take the attention away from himself. "You sure there's nothing going on there?"

"I'm sure."

"But...you weren't inside at lunch...were you with Cas?" Iris asked me with growing interest. Perhaps it had been a bad idea to invite her to dinner after all. Now I had the three of them ganging up on me.

"Is Castiel this bad-boy I heard about this morning? The one that hangs around with Leigh's little brother? Red hair, moody expression, black jacket?" When she got a chorus of nods, Chrissy smirked at me. "Are you sure he doesn't have a thing for you, Ren? He's a good-looking boy under the attitude."

I folded my arms defiantly. If they thought they were going to get a rise out of me over something like this, they had another thing coming. "I'm very sure. He thinks I'm fun to take the piss out of, that's all. He'll leave me alone when he gets bored of me." Even as I said the words, I was hoping that they were a lie and not the truth. If he got bored and chucked me to the wayside I'd probably spend the rest of my days at Sweet Amoris feeling like a complete idiot for putting my trust in him in the first place.

_Please don't let today be an indicator of things to come..._He'd been so snappy with me, like I was just another one of the annoying pests that he had to deal with day to day. Like I was Amber.

I realised I'd been silent for too long. "He just makes fun of me all the time."

Chrissy laughed. "That's called flirting, dear."

_I'm not so sure._

oOo

**A/N: Well, I hope it was worth the wait. Message me if you are bored or have any questions. Reviews are not expected but I do read them all and appreciate them greatly. I am still looking for a beta reader if anyone is interested.**


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